


Unexpected Guidance

by Citizen_Nappa



Category: Bloodborne (Video Game)
Genre: Angst with a Happy Ending, Background Relationships, Child Death, Developing Relationship, Enemies to Lovers, F/M, Falling In Love, Flashbacks, Headcanon, Historical References, Hurt/Comfort, Implied/Referenced Rape/Non-con, Implied/Referenced Suicide, Making Love, Multiple Endings, Past Character Death, Psychological Trauma, Therapy, Tragic Romance
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-08-22
Updated: 2020-02-28
Packaged: 2020-09-23 20:14:11
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 13
Words: 105,727
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20346046
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Citizen_Nappa/pseuds/Citizen_Nappa
Summary: Broken and scarred by the seemingly never-ending night, the Good Hunter finally gives up. But in the darkest depths of the Nightmare, he manages to find a guiding moonlight of his own.





	1. Ich hab die Nacht geträumet

The Hunter remembered the Blood Ministration like it was yesterday. Except of course, he was not sure if it had actually occurred yesterday or mere hours ago. Time, like many things in Yharnam, seems to twist and turn at any moment, for no matter how long he seemed to stay in any given part of the city, the night sky scarcely seemed to change. There were times when a battle that seemed to take hours of effort was actually finished in a few moments and others when their conclusions had sped the clock forward in an impossible way.

But regardless, the Hunter knew that he was exhausted. Ever since he had set foot outside Iosefka's desolate clinic, he had grown used to the snarling of beasts, the stench of blood and above all, the cold embrace of death. He had been mauled, burned, slashed, crushed, torn and broken, awakening each time to begin the cycle again. There was a small light in the darkness, an oasis from the dark and desolate town that the Hunter had grown familiar with. A mysterious realm known as the Hunter's Dream.

Or at least that's what he used to think. At first, the Hunter had thought the Dream to be a blessing, a retreat from the endless cycle of death and rebirth. But with every visit, he had grown more and more disconnected from it and began to associate it with a feeling that he felt every moment in the Waking World. Loneliness.

The only constant source of interaction he had during the hunt was with the Bath Messengers and with a single Plain Doll that he had met outside the Workshop, the only one who he could count on in times of personal dilemma. But despite their presence, the Hunter felt more alone then ever. The messengers followed him everywhere he went and worshiped him without question, yet could not speak a single word. And despite her consistent loyalty, something within him knew that the Doll was not a suitable substitute for human interaction. Overtime, he began to loathe the sight of his companions and the plane that they called home, only visiting when it was absolutely necessary.

Gehrman, the Old Hunter that had greeted him upon his arrival, had long ago grown distant. Since his arrival in the Cathedral Ward, he had seemingly vanished from the Workshop and had not spoken to him since. He was unsure of where his supposed mentor had ventured to, but the tired way in which he spoke had tipped the Hunter off that he had been confined to this Dream for a long time. If he had already grown disillusioned with it, he could only imagine the pain the old man had endured in his time there.

Despite the widespread effects of the beastly scourge, the Hunter surprisingly had little trouble finding residents with their wits about them. In his first few hours in Yharnam, he had grown acquainted with several of the city's inhabitants, who despite the town's seeming distrust of foreigners, were more then willing to accept his aid. It brought a faint flicker of hope to see remnants of humanity in a land overwhelmed by beasts, but the Hunter learned the hard way that there were no happy endings in Yharnam.

The few Hunters he had come across had grown drunk with blood and had to be put down as if they were simple beasts. The very first he had come across had slaughtered his own wife in a fit of beastly rage and had been in the last stages of turning when the Hunter had found him. The few who remained had slowly died around him as the night went on or had turned on him as the blood-lust slowly took hold.

The few citizens who evaded the effects of the Scourge had been redirected to the Cathedral Ward to wait out the rest of the night, at the request of a simple Dweller, who the Hunter considered to be the kindest soul within Yharnam, despite his hideous appearance. But eventually, the residents of Oedon Chapel began to die one by one, until only one remained. A beggar the Hunter had found in the Forbidden Woods, who was then slaughtered without a second thought. The words the Beggar had spouted during their battle had been imprinted within the Hunter's head; that he was the real killer. Now every-time he entered the Chapel, the only place in all of Yharnam where he could interact with other humans in any way, he begun to wonder if those words had been true.

But the dread he felt in Yharnam was only amplified by his arrival in the Hunter's Nightmare, a twisted reality inhabited by Hunters who had lost themselves to the Blood's intoxication. This was what he had to look forward to. His consciousness trapped in an eternal hunt against an enemy he could no longer comprehend, never being able to escape the cycle of death and rebirth that had crushed his spirit. As he wade his way further into the depths of the Nightmare, he had discovered far more then he needed to about the history of the Hunt. The fate that befell the supposedly noble Ludwig, the experimentations of the Research Hall and the unfortunate downfall of Laurence, founder of the Healing Church. But they paled in comparison to the source of the Nightmare, testament to the old sins. The Hunter had sworn to end the Nightmare for good, to lift the burden of the shoulders off all who swore to combat the beastly surge.

This was before he had ascended to the Astral Clocktower and discovered the body of the legendary Lady Maria, who was said to be the most talented of Gehrman's pupils. As he approached her seemingly lifeless body, he began to notice something familiar about her, though he couldn't ascertain exactly what it was. When he finally reached her, the first thing he noticed was that the floor that surrounded her chair was coated in a pool of blood, which also stained her collar. But as he observed the grisly sight before him, he noticed something else and he immediately realized what this familiarity he felt stemmed from.

""What...what is this?", he murmured to himself, reaching out his hand in order to confirm his suspicions.

Suddenly, he felt something grab his hand and violently pull him forward, so that he was face to face with the figure in front of him. His curiosity had gotten the better of him.

"A corpse should be left well alone" The Old Hunter said in a voice the Hunter knew all to well. Releasing her hold on him, she watched as her visitor stumble backwards with a shocked expression on his face, one which she was slightly puzzled by. Yet the most shocking thing wasn't her voice, her visage nor the fact she had sprung from death. It was her eyes.

They were...empty.

"Oh, I know how the secrets beckon so sweetly. Only an honest death will cure you now. Liberate you from your wild curiosity".

The Hunter had barely registered the revelation that he had just experienced before Maria rushed towards him with a speed unlike anything he had faced before. Barely dodging before the attack reached him, the Hunter prepared for combat. It was not long before he was cut down yet again and his body faded away into the Dream to start anew. It was another cycle that he would soon grow used to.

…..

Desperation. That is what the Hunter felt as he maneuvered around Maria's seemingly endless array of swings, all of which left a trail of blood and flames. He had seen everything that the Guardian of the Astral Clocktower was capable of and even then, he struggled to evade her in a consistent manner. But all that didn't matter. He could see that she was weakening. All he had to do was hold out a little while longer and he could finally progress past this forsaken Clocktower.

Maria had dashed backwards and taken up a stance the Hunter knew signified that she was about to fire a powerful stream of blood, but he was unsure of which one it was going to be. He received his answer when a stream of blood shot straight towards him, which he expertly sidestepped before it could hit him. This was it. All he had to do now was to…

He was cut off as she followed up with a diagonal slash that hit him just as he was recovering, leaving a large gash across his chest and knocking his axe from his hand, with the follow-up stream of fire knocking him backwards. As he struggled to get up, he could see Maria slowly approaching him, ready to slay him yet again. Realizing he still had his pistol holstered, the Hunter pulled it out and aimed it at his opponent, who froze in place as she saw him pull the trigger.

*click*

Empty. It was empty. The Hunter had used up all of his bullets during the battle and in desperation had forgotten to keep track of his ammunition. He should've been furious with himself for being so careless, but instead a different feeling rushed over him. Frustration.

With a yell, he hurled his pistol forward, with his opponent shifting to the side in order to avoid the incoming object. The action caused another surge of pain across his body, causing him to fall back as he he gripped his burning chest. Yet despite still having several Blood Vials on his person, he could not bring himself to continue the battle. Nothing he did seemed to matter. He had failed so many times, seemingly learned all there is to know about his opponent's weaknesses and yet, just as victory was within his grasp, she found a way to turn the tables on him yet again. After everything he'd done, everything he'd lost, everything he'd worked for, it was all ruined because of his own bloody pistol. What was the point?

During all of this, he noticed that Maria was still frozen in place, staring at him as he lay on the floor, not even trying to fight back. Though he should have been grateful that she had not struck him down, the only thing he felt was anger. Why now does she hesitate, when he's completely at her mercy?

"Well? What are you waiting for? Finish it!"

He was not certain, but he could've sworn he saw her recoil slightly as he finished his statement, before she began to approach him, still holding her two blood-soaked blades. Stopping just in front of him, she slowly raised her weapon. He did not attempt to move out of the way, he didn't even raise his head in acknowledgement. He just waited for that familiar feeling to wash over him as he was reborn once again.

He could just barely make out the sound of her blade cutting through the air...

The Hunter opened his eyes, realizing that the swing did not connect. He looked up at Maria, realizing that her weapon was no longer covered in blood. He watched apprehensively as she placed her Rakuyo on the ground and knelt down beside him, gently lifting him up as she did so. She reached into his pouch, pulling out one of his unused Blood Vials and injecting it into his leg.

"No. Not like this." She said as she released him and turned towards her chair, which had miraculously survived their battle.

The Hunter watched her walk away in shock, not saying a word as the Healing Blood slowly repaired the gash on his chest and the damage done to his arm. Having seen the effects of excessive usage of the blood first-hand, he had started to limit his usage of it during battle, prioritizing fast reactions and even quicker attacks. Yet he could not deny the relief he felt as the blistering pain in his body began to subside, allowing him to slowly get back on his feet. Though the physical pain had dispersed, a different kind still remained.

"Why did you do that?" He asked the Guardian of the Astral Clocktower, who was now reclining in the chair he had found her in, her head lowered slightly.

"You were not defending yourself. It is not becoming of a Hunter to take advantage of a defenseless opponent." She answered, not even looking him in the eye as she spoke. He knew that Maria had been noted for her compassion during her time, but something told him she was not telling him the full truth.

"It is also not becoming of someone of your stature to lie. I can list countless times when I was incapable of defending myself and when you executed me without hesitation". This got her attention, causing her to raise her head, though she still averted her gaze.

"Perhaps so, but we both know that the circumstances of this encounter are different. You did not even attempt to fight back." She replied in a rather patronizing tone.

"And why does that matter to you? Is it not your purpose to prevent me from discovering the secrets of the Nightmare? Why now do you decide to show mercy?!" The Hunter replied in a much more aggressive manner then he intended, his frustration at Maria's cryptic answers becoming too much to bear.

"I did not think that you would be so eager to die again." Maria said with a slight smirk on her face.

The Hunter could not believe it. She was mocking him. She had killed him too many times to count and know there she was. Sitting back in a chair and mocking him, as if she were a mother dealing with an unruly child. He struggled to formulate a reply, all the while holding back the anger that began to swell within him.

"Is it that you have grown disillusioned with this charade? Do you understand now that you can't erase what you have done? Is this some half-hearted effort to try to wash the blood from your hands?" As he spoke, he saw as Maria's posture grew more rigid, tightly grasping the arms of her chair and furrowing her brows, all while avoiding his gaze.

"You would do well to mind your tongue. I did not spare you out of a selfish desire to right my own wrongs. I was…" Unable to finish her sentence, she lowered her head so her cap obscured the troubled expression on her face. At this point, the anger in the Hunter's chest had reached a breaking point and he boldly approached Maria, stopping just in front of her.

"Then why? Why did you do it?" His questioning seemed to have little effect, as Maria continued to sit in silence, refusing to even acknowledge his presence. "ANSWER ME!" He blurted out; his patience having long worn thin.

"Because your heart is no longer in this battle." She answered forcibly, finally meeting his gaze. "I can see it in your eyes. The anger, the frustration, the confusion. You fight, but you no longer understand why. You do not remember your reason for accepting this Hunt in the first place, nor do you see any reason to continue it. The night has crushed your spirit and addled your mind beyond repair, yet you see no light at the end of the tunnel. But above all, you feel like nothing you do seems to matter. After everything you have lost and everything you have overcome, you just don't seem to get any closer to whatever it is you seek. And now, only one feeling remains. Hopelessness."

As the Hunter processed Maria's address, he once again found himself slowly edging away from her; not out of fear, but of surprise. How was it possible that she was able to ascertain the cause of his surrender so easily? He had understandably not spoken a word to her since she had awakened, yet she seemed to understand him more then anyone he had met in his Hunt. Even those he had called his friends.

"How did… how in the world did you…" He struggled to form his words, the impact from her statements having not yet subsided.

"Because I was once in the same position." She replied, a sorrowful expression appearing on her face.

Realization finally dawned upon him. "You were provoking me on purpose. Seeing just how far I was willing to go". She nodded silently, confirming his suspicion. But one question remained.

"Why?"

"To cool your anger. Make you more willing to listen." She answered, confusing the Hunter even further.

"Why on Earth would I listen to you? For all I know this is all just another scheme to lure me away from whatever it is you are guarding. I hope you have not forgotten, Maria. We are NOT friends." This statement seemed to ignite something in the Old Huntress, as she swiftly rose to her feet with a look of unbridled anger on her face.

"Do you think I haven't lost anything from these battles? I broke the one principle I had left just to keep you from uncovering the Church's secret and yet, you just kept on coming back. After what you made me do, I should've been exhilarated that you had finally given up, that I no longer had to rely on Cainhurst's abominable blood arts just to keep you at bay! If I really wanted to, I would have butchered you and sent you back to the Waking World in a state that no beast in Yharnam would have the stomach to approach you. But I didn't. Because I know that if I did, it would have set you down a much darker path. One that would no doubt confide you to this Godforsaken Nightmare, slobbering like a mad dog. You are right about one thing; we are not friends. But understand this, I'm not trying to deceive you."

She paused then, her composure softening considerably and an understanding smile appearing on her face.

"I'm trying to help you."

The Hunter stood in silence, still trying to comprehend what he had just heard. During his Hunt, he had seen many creatures that would have even the most hardened veterans shaking in their boots, yet somehow even they paled in comparison to the pure terror he had felt as Maria spoke. Perhaps it was the unexpected outburst from one who is usually composed or the pure anger she had exhibited while scolding him, but whatever it was, he was not ready to press her any further.

Though suspicion still lingered in the back of his mind, the raw emotion Maria had demonstrated during her address had at least proven to him that she was not being insincere. She wanted to help him, even after all the pain she had endured trying to keep him from discovering the secrets of the Nightmare. In what way, he did not know, but perhaps she was the only one who could.

"Alright, Maria. What is this about?" He asked after a lengthy silence.

"I wish only to speak to you. To understand what has led you to this point. If I learned anything in my years in the Waking World, it's that a Hunter's life is one marred in loneliness." Maria replied, raising out her hand in a gesture of peace. "I do not expect you to accept, but know that I understand your pain, more then you can imagine. You may leave this place and forget this exchange ever took place. The choice is yours alone."

The Hunter looked at her outstretched hand, weighing his options. He was still unsure of whether he should trust her, but if he refused her offer, who else could he turn to? Everyone he had grown close to was either dead or missing, with the only other options being an emotionally detached Hunter and a soulless replication of the woman standing before him. If he left, he was certain his mental state would deteriorate even further and he would find himself trapped in this Nightmare forever more. He truly had nowhere else to go.

After several moments of hesitation, he accepted Maria's offered handshake, firmly clasping her arm as he did so. Nodding his consent, Maria led him to the small set of stairs beneath the grand clock of the Cathedral, motioning for him to sit down. After he had taken his seat, he watched as his host returned to her chair, quickly turning it around so she could face him before sitting down herself. His guess was that she understood that he did not trust her enough to let her so close to him just yet and chose to respect this, for now.

"Now then, Good Hunter. Tell me what troubles you."


	2. Wohl Einen Schweren Traum

Against his better judgement, the Hunter began to confess everything that he was comfortable to share with his unexpected host. He left out many personal details, but in a way that Maria could still understand without extensive questioning. He talked about the desolate nature of Yharnam, the countless deaths he had been subjected to, the disconnect he felt within the Hunter's Dream, the burden of responsibility he felt for the massacre in Oedon Chapel, the eldritch horrors he had witnessed throughout his journey and the skepticism he now felt towards his occupation after uncovering so much about it's history.

He also talked about everyone he had lost along the way. Gilbert, the very first Yharnimite he had met in his travels, who had fallen into beast hood after a nightlong battle with his terminal illness. Eileen the Crow, who died from injuries sustained from pursuing a madman bearing the armor of Cainhurst. The Samaritan of Oedon Chapel, slaughtered by someone the Hunter had sent to his domain. Alfred the Executioner, who had lost himself to madness in his quest, forcing the Hunter to put him down. He even mentioned the brief conversation he had with Ludwig in the aftermath of their battle, where he had willingly lied to the once mighty warrior on the fate of his cherished Church Hunters, leaving him to sleep eternally, not knowing the horrible truth.

Minutes eventually turned to hours and through it all, Maria sat in silence, listening attentively. Throughout his confession, the Hunter felt the apprehension he felt in the first few moments of their encounter slowly fade away, growing more and more comfortable in sharing his story with her as time went on. As strange as it sounded, he felt relieved. It had been so long since he had felt comfortable sharing secrets like this with anyone, even with those he trusted most. Yet here he was, pouring his heart out to someone who only hours ago he would've wanted nothing more then to see dead. Eventually, the Hunter had described all that he was willing to share with his host.

"What was it you said earlier? That nothing I do seems to matter? Well, ever since I came to this Godforsaken town, everything I have done seems to have resulted in nothing but death and misery. And no matter how hard I try; I can't escape it. The howls of beasts, the stench of blood, the mad laughter of all who remain. It's all that I seem to know anymore. The only time I can find any form of solace is in the cold hands of death, until I'm sent back to experience it all over again. And for what? So my soul can find itself trapped in a cursed dimension for all of eternity, for a crime I was not responsible for? It's not fair, it just isn't fair."

At this point, the Hunter could barely keep himself together. He looked up at Maria with a look of panic in his eyes.

"Please. I have had enough of this Hunt. The night, it blocks all sight. Unshackle me. I beg of you...!"

With those last few words, the Hunter devolved into a series of uncontrollable sobs, the pain he had felt throughout the long hours of the night finally becoming too much to bear. He buried his face into his gloves as the tears began to flow, feeling hopelessness washing over him yet again.

He felt a sudden contact on his shoulder, causing him to jump slightly, his experience during the Hunt leading him to expect the worst. But instead of a famished beast or mad doctor, he saw that Maria had taken a seat next to him on the stairwell, a concerned, yet understanding look on her face. He was about to object to the sudden breach of boundaries before the sobs returned, yet almost as soon as they did, Lady Maria put her arm around him and simply held him, holding him close to her as he wept into her jacket. She continued this embrace for several minutes, comforting her visitor as best as she could.

Eventually, the Hunter regained some semblance of control and pulled himself away from Maria, his eyes visibly red from crying. Silence befell the Clocktower yet again as he struggled to compose himself, the ringing of the bell echoing throughout the room as this happened.

"How do you feel?" Maria said, finally breaking her silence.

"I do not know." Despite the simplicity of the question, the Hunter could not provide a straight answer. The sheer amount of emotions he had experienced in so short a time frame was simply too much.

"Maria, I'm…I'm sorry. I misjudged you." He said, his voice having grown hoarse from sobbing.

"You have nothing to be sorry for." Maria swiftly replied.

"No. It has been so long since I've been able to share things like this with anyone. Thank you." The Hunter immediately fired back, not allowing her to play this off.

With that, Maria simply nodded her head in understanding before averting her gaze from him once again. The Hunter had truly meant every word he had said to her, how this had been the most genuine form of human interaction he had had in what felts like years. But despite his gratitude, curiosity remained as to what her intentions were.

"Tell me, Maria. What is it that compels you to aid me?" He asked her.

"Still questioning my intentions?" She said with a slight smile.

"No, I just don't understand. You said that you were once in the same position I find myself in now, that you had broken all but one of your principles. I have confessed everything that has made me the way I am, yet I hardly know anything about you." Maria's smile had long faded by the time the Hunter finished talking, replaced with that same sorrowful look from before.

"What happened to you, Maria?"

She then turned away from him, seemingly lost in her thoughts. Eventually, she let out a drawn-out sigh and rose to her feet, offering him her hand yet again.

"Come. Walk with me."

Taking a moment to process her request, the Hunter accepted her helping hand up and began to follow her to the gate that lead to the Lumenwood Gardens. As they left the Clocktower, the Hunter spared a thought as to why he was able to exit it now when every other time he attempted to, he felt an invisible force repel him from doing so. Deciding that it was simply the Nightmare playing tricks on him, the Hunter's mind shifted to other thoughts.

"Where are we going?'" He asked Maria as they approached the entrance to the Research Hall.

"Did you not make use of Adeline’s gift?" She replied; the sadness in her voice evident.

Upon hearing the Blood Saint's name, The Hunter suddenly stopped dead in his tracks. She had in fact gifted him a charm, a key which lead to a balcony overlooking a vast Lumenflower garden. He had purposely averted mention of Adeline during his confession, hoping to spare Maria further sorrow after being made aware of the bond she shared with the patient before her demise. He thought that if she knew the part he played in the Blood Saint's "revelation", she would surely reconsider her offer.

"How did you know that?" He asked, with an undertone of fear in his voice.

Turning towards him, Maria reached into her coat and took out the key that she had at one point given to the Blood Saint, which he must’ve dropped during one of their battles. As she held it out, there was a look of unmistakable sorrow on her face.

She knew. How he had given in to Adeline's requests and provided her with Brain Fluid. In the beginning, he had thought her obsession with the "sticky" sound in her head to be the ramblings of an addled mind and had provided her with the substance in a misguided attempt to quench her suffering. But upon his defeat of the Living Failures, he had realized the true purpose of the Church's experiments was to create a being capable of communicating with the Great Ones. Returning to Adeline's room, he found the seat she was strapped to empty, with no sign of the former Blood Saint. Until he heard a familiar voice coming from behind him.

"Drip, drop, slip, slop."

Slowly turning around, he was horrified to find that Adeline had been reduced to a meaty lump, much like the ones he had found scattered throughout the Research Hall. The Hunter suddenly realized what he had done. He had inadvertently continued the process which lead to the Choir's eventual creation of the Celestial Emissary. Every other patient he had come across had devolved into nonsensical mutterings about the sounds of water and he feared he had now broken Adeline's mind beyond repair.

"Oh, hello…One last time, will you fetch Brain Fluid, just one last time? The murky, mushy fluid that will make me whole. The sticky sound whispers to me. So very close, right into my ear. My head, just a head, that's all there is."

The Hunter found himself at a crossroads. He could not bring himself to grant her request, not after what he had learned about the process. Yet, he knew he had no choice. He had lost his chance to grant her a merciful passing long ago, as he know understood that in her current state, she was impossible to kill. What was he supposed to do?

"I need my baptism. Please, I beg of you…I want to be something…" Adeline edged him on further before erupting into a bout of crazed laughter.

The Hunter finally made his decision. Taking out the axe he had carried with him since the start of his journey, he raised it overhead and brought it down on what remained of Adeline, causing her to scream in pain before going still. He then began to reluctantly collect the fluid which oozed from her head, though the process was much slower due to the trembling in his hands. The lump suddenly regained sentience as soon as he finished the extraction.

"Please, give me Brain Fluid. The sticky sound whispers, I need my baptism. Ahh, or perhaps, I'm already brimming over…"

The Hunter then kneeled down in front of Adeline and reluctantly poured the substance onto her enlarged head, recoiling as he heard the horrifying noise she made as she absorbed the fluid into her body.

"Ahhh! Aahh! I see a shape. My guide, I see your voice, clearly, as it bends and bleeds. My own, revelation… just for me…" Another bout of laughter ensued as Adeline seemed to achieve her revelation, seeming genuinely thrilled with her current predicament.

The Hunter said nothing, trying his hardest to drown out Adeline's words.

"Thank you. For everything… Really, I used to be nothing…" These were the last words that Adeline spoke to the Hunter before she let out one final scream, her head suddenly deflating before his very eyes.

The Hunter did not need any further inspection to know that she was dead. She had achieved her long-desired revelation, the only patient out of hundreds to do so and it came at the cost of her life. And it was all because of him.

….

The Hunter stood in silence as Maria knelt in front of what was left of her cherished patient. Though he had originally feared how she would react upon hearing of Adeline's fate, she had explained to him that she did not blame him for what happened. The Blood Saint was always eager to fulfill her treatment, even against Maria's constant urging the contrary. That did not lessen the feeling of guilt the Hunter felt for his part in the process.

"If only I had known what she was planning. I never would have helped her."

"I did not want this for her. The reason I had her locked away here was so she would be spared the fate that befell the other patients. I did not want her to become a failure." Maria said in a hoarse voice.

"But she was always so eager to continue her treatment, no matter how much I tried to stop her. All she seemed to want is to obtain her own personal revelation, even if it led her to a fate worse then death." With that, Maria finally stood up and turned to face her visitor.

"Perhaps it was for the best that you honored her request. Leaving her in that state would have meant she would have remained trapped here for eternity, reveling in her madness. At least I know that she is finally free of this accursed place." Her words were accompanied by a few stray tears, shed in memory of Adeline.

"Maria, I'm…" The Hunter tried to speak, before Maria raised her hand in front of him to stop him.

"Enough. She chose this. There was nothing you could have done." It was clear to him that she felt some semblance of responsibility for Adeline's fate, as much as it pained her to admit it.

"You asked me what happened to make me this way. Well, the building you find yourself in is part of that." She then turned around and made her way to the doorway of Adeline's room. "Follow me."

Maria then proceeded lead the Hunter to the balcony, while sparing glances at the unfortunate patients crawling along the floor. Despite the aggressive nature in which they had heckled the Hunter in his time in the Research Hall, they did not seem to pay them any attention as they stepped onto the balcony, with Maria resting her arms on the long-decayed railing. Her eyes wandered to the large group of patients working in the Lumenflower garden below, a small smile forming on her lips.

"This was the only place I could find relief in my time here. A place to escape from the horrible sounds the patients would make as their transformations progressed, the stench that would permeate every floor. Somewhere to forget everything that has happened, even for a few moments." Maria said, seemingly offering a confession of her own.

"I came here when I had grown disillusioned with my role as a Hunter, much like you do now, hoping to find some way to put my talents in the service of others. I had heard rumors of what the Church was trying to accomplish here, though I had no idea just how vast this undertaking really was. I tried to bring comfort to the patients here in any way I could, but at the time, I was still a believer in achieving communion with the Great Ones. I oversaw many of the experiments myself, having them imbibe so much water into their bodies that their heads would expand to an impossible mass. Those who died in the process were disposed off, to be replaced in time to start the process anew. Those who survived the initial procedure I allowed to tend to the flowers outside, in a vain hope that their smell would bring even a small amount of comfort to them. But with every failure, my frustration grew more and more. So many had perished, many more driven to insanity and for what? So I could rekindle that feeling of purpose I had lost in the Hunt? I began to question what it was I was striving for, if I could every truly achieve it. In the end, I saw it as nothing but another failure."

Suddenly, the Hunter understood what Maria had meant when she said she was once in a similar position as he was. Whatever it was that happened to have her abandon her duty as a Hunter, it must have shaken her to her very core, leaving her to question just what her purpose was. The Research Hall had been an attempt to find purpose in her mission, while also hoping to aid those in need, but he had learned first hand that this was not what had happened. She found herself alone, with no company but the addling minds of her patients and surrounded by reminders of her failures. No matter how hard she tried, she seemed to accomplish nothing.

"Why did you stay?" The Hunter questioned her.

"I kept telling myself that I stayed here for the sake of the patients, but I knew deep down it was because I had nowhere else to go. I had sworn never to return to Cainhurst Castle for as long as I lived. Byrgenwerth had been long abandoned by the time my doubts arose. I could not bring myself to associate with Laurence after I had realized how he had abused the Old Blood. I had no home to return to, no family to take me in. At the time, I thought it was exactly what I deserved."

"Then why didn't you return to the Hunt?" The Hunter knew the answer long before Maria answered, yet insisted on asking anyway.

"For a time, I strongly considered it. The Workshop was perhaps the only place I had felt truly at home, where I felt like my life truly had meaning to it. But part of me knew I couldn't go back, not after what we had done. I told myself that the methods employed under Ludwig were a far cry to anything I had grown used to in my time, that it was too much of a departure for what the Hunt was originally intended for. But truly, I was unsure if I could ever look Gehrman in the eyes again." She turned her head towards her visitor before posing him a single question.

"How is he?"

"I do not know. He has not spoken a word to me since the night has started, but from the little he has said he sounded…tired. As if he had grown weary of the life he had chosen for himself. I hear him talking in his sleep sometimes, saying how he has grown far too old for this life."

The Hunter was not certain that he should tell Maria the full extent of Gehrman's current condition. Whatever her current feelings towards her mentor were, it was best she remained ignorant to how much her death had impacted him. She had more then enough weight to carry as it was without knowing that her death had driven her mentor to the brink.

"He misses you. He does not show it, but I know he cared for you deeply."

"I know. I may not view him as highly as I once did, but I know that he is a good man at heart. He is perhaps the most selfless person I have ever met, fully committed to bear the burden of others till his dying breath. He may seem distant now, but I assure you. He will come through for you in the end." Maria sighed softly as she finished speaking, as if reminiscing about the past.

"I really do hope he is okay. I have always considered him to be like a father to me. I can only imagine what my passing had spurred in him. My biggest regret is that we did not part on better terms." With that, an uneasy silence once again developed between the pair, interrupted only by the wind and the chimes of the Clocktower far above.

"I assume you have satisfied your curiosity?" Maria suddenly asked her visitor.

"Pardon me?" The Hunter replied in confusion.

"Do you understand now why I spared you? I have made mistakes which have haunted me my entire life and every chance I had to amend them seemed to cause another. That feeling of hopelessness, it seems omnipresent." She paused then, looking the Hunter dead in the eyes, any semblance of warmth having left her face.

"It becomes too much to bear" She said in a pained voice.

Any doubt the Hunter had as to the means of her demise had vanished, causing him to hang his head in realization. She was trying to make sure he did not meet the same fate that she did, taking his own life out of desperation and loneliness. As he attempted to process this information, he suddenly felt Maria's hand on his.

"I saw that same hopelessness in your eyes when you surrendered, the one that I had struggled with for so long. I could not possibly live with myself knowing I was the catalyst for such a cruel fate when I had the opportunity to change it. So, I beg of you, my Good Hunter. Do not give up hope." She then placed a reassuring hand on his shoulder.

"And remember, even in the darkest depths of the Nightmare, a Hunter is never truly alone."

The Hunter stood completely still, unsure of what to say or even whether he should say anything at all. The events that had just transpired had left him unsure of just about everything he had experienced up until then; the kind gestures she was showing him - juxtaposed to the ruthlessness she had shown throughout their battles - still made him feel somewhat uneasy. Pulling his hand back, he stepped away from her with slight embarrassment.

"I must return to Yharnam. I must ensure that things have not escalated during the time I have been here." He told her, though he was almost certain that not much had changed in the Waking World. It never seemed to.

"I understand. If you ever feel the need to speak to someone, you know where to go."

Nodding his understanding, the Hunter began to make his way back to the lantern at the entrance to the Research Hall.

"Good Hunter!" He suddenly heard Maria call for him just as he had exited the balcony.

"Yes?" He said in response.

"If I may ask, are you certain we have never met before tonight?" She inquired, causing him to turn around to face her.

"I...think I would recall meeting someone such as yourself." Was what he responded with, yet even though them having no prior acquaintance seemed obvious to him, Maria still appeared somewhat skeptical.

"Yes, I suppose you're right. If we had, I would know your name as you seem to know mine." She eventually agreed, remaining silent for but a moment before stepping forward and asking him another question.

"What is it, then? Your name."

For a moment, the Hunter was genuinely stumped. It had been so long since he had last used his given name, so long in fact that he struggled to remember it. Reaching into the far corners of his mind, he finally managed to remember. It was…

"Zoran. Zoran Kushnirenko." With that, he continued on his path towards the lantern, leaving Maria alone on the balcony. As he was about to transport himself back to the dream, a familiar voice rang out behind him.

"Now that is most peculiar. A corpse wandering the halls in the dead of night? Wouldn't you agree?"

"Simon." Zoran greeted the former Church Hunter without even turning to face him. The events of the past few hours had caused him to almost forget one of the few friendly faces he had met within the Nightmare.

"Wherever are you going now? You will get no closer to the secrets of the Nightmare by meandering about in the Waking World. After all, it is far to late now to heed my warning." Simon's words were laced with an aura of unmistakable impatience, seeing as how he had not moved from the spot he found himself in now since he had urged the Hunter to pursue the Astral Clocktower.

Zoran distanced himself from the lantern and turned to face his fellow hunter. He had been the one who had spurred him onward in his quest to uncover the secrets of the Healing Church and who had instructed him to seek out and slay Maria. Now he began to question whether Simon had been telling him the full truth after all.

"I have had more then enough time for personal reflection, Simon. Not all paths are meant to be followed until the end." With that, Simon's lips spread into a grin.

"Oh yes, I see. You have begun to question your reason for seeking the heart of the Nightmare. Why know, after all this time?" Seeing that The Hunter had turned to walk away, Simon attempted to regain his attention.

"Do tell, Zoran?" This caused the Hunter to freeze and turn to face his ally yet again. How could he have known his true name? No-one in Yharnam knew. No-one except for…

"How much did you hear?" Zoran questioned.

"Enough." Simon replied, his usual demeanor noticeably absent.

"You had no business eavesdropping on personal matters." Zoran replied in anger, shocked at his supposed friend's violation of his privacy.

"Now, now. You must understand. It has been long since we had last spoken. I hoped only to discover what has stalled your progress for so long."

"Whatever your suspicions may be, that does not give you the right to spy on me."

"And what about her?" Simon suddenly asked, causing Zoran to fluster briefly as he tried to formulate a valid response.

"That is none of your business."

"Oh, but it is. Have you forgotten that it is she who bears much of the blame for the existence of this Nightmare? That it was her who left so many of these patients in a state worse than death? She may deny it, but deep down I think she knows exactly what she is. A monster."

"There is much you do not know about her." Zoran said, his anger towards Simon growing stronger with each word.

"Likewise, I'm sure." Simon said in an accusing tone. "Think about it, Zoran. If you truly knew the truth about her, would you be so willing to abandon this search you've dedicated so much of your efforts to?"

"Is there a reason you are telling me this?" Zoran said, his patience with the Harrowed Hunter hanging by a thread.

"She tells you exactly what you want to hear, feeding you half-truths and toying with your emotions. She realizes now that her skill in battle will not keep you from uncovering the secrets she guards, so she has discovered a new way to keep you at bay. Maria did not offer you council out of the goodness of her heart. She did it to make you question your objective, lulling you into a false sense of security and making it all the easier to keep you from trying again."

Despite how hard it was for him to admit, Zoran recognized that Simon had a point. There was much he still did not know about Maria, who by her own admission, was at one point fiercely committed to the Healing Church. Whether she was truly willing to do something as wile as what Simon had formulated to protect their secrets he did not know, but it certainly wasn't out of the realm of possibility.

"So, you understand why I accepted her request?" Zoran asked.

"I do. And I do not blame you. I know all to well how the Hunt can crush one's spirit."

"So why did you never say anything?"

"I beg your pardon?" Simon appeared flabbergasted by Zoran's sudden question.

"You may be right about her Simon. I do not deny that I may very well have fallen victim to misdirection. But she was the only one who ever tried to understand me, the only one I felt could understand me. I do not doubt for a moment that her confession was sincere, that she found herself in the same position that I do now. Regardless of her true motives, I must still take time to think about what it is I'm striving for."

With that, Zoran once again turned towards the lantern and began preparing himself for yet another trip to the Hunter's Dream.

"I suggest you come to a decision soon. Every hour you waste only prolongs the suffering of those still trapped here." Simon warned the Hunter as he walked away from him.

"You do what you think is best, Simon. You figured out exactly what it is you are fighting for. Allow me to do the same."

Simon stood in silence as he watched Zoran's body fade away yet again, leaving him alone.

"Taken by the Nightmare, are you?" Simon said as he pulled out his blade. "Then you leave me no choice."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Author's Note: It's past this point where the Hunter goes from a faceless character to a more established OOC.
> 
> The next handful of chapters will follow a similar format to this one, though I only plan to continue this format for two or three characters.


	3. Es wuchs in meinem Garten, ein Rosmarienbaum.

Maria reclined in her chair within the Clocktower, patiently awaiting the return of her unexpected visitor. For that was all she could really do. Having been so focused on keeping the ever-tenacious Hunter from discovering the secrets of the Nightmare, she had been able to ignore the unrelenting boredom she felt in between his visits. Back then he would appear every few hours, challenging her guardianship time after time. But since their last encounter, he had not returned to the Clocktower in what seemed like days, leaving Maria alone in her thoughts.

She knew she had done the right thing by helping him, but part of her was still uncertain on why she had done it. If she had been serious about her duty, she simply would have let him go and would have ensured that he would not return. But then what would she do? She was still trapped in an eternal Nightmare, surrounded by reminders of her failures. The one person she could confide in was gone, despite her efforts to spare the Blood Saint from the very fate that met her. She would be well and truly alone, lost and forgotten to time.

Part of her knew she was just as desperate as he was for any form of interaction, anything to break the monotonous cycle she found herself in. She should have hated him, for the part he played in Adeline's death, for forcing her to turn to the shameful use of bloodtinge in a desperate attempt to stop him and for forcing her to defend the secrets of the very people that led her to such despair. And for a time, she did.

Their battles had driven her to the very edge, where she was ready to abandon everything just to see him dead. His surrender had been a wake-up call, one that reminded her that her adversary was not a mindless beast, but a human with struggles of his own. Watching him patiently await his execution had awakened painful memories of her last moments, where she had felt like nothing she did mattered and that she was nothing but a failure who brought death and misery wherever she went. She realized something then.

She broke him. And anything that happened to him past that point would be on her hands. She could not in good conscious sit back and allow that to happen.

In a way he had helped her remember who she truly was, that she was not a blood-crazed murderer like many other inhabitants of the Nightmare. The least she could do is ensure he did not end up the same way she did. Listening to his confession had brought forth a wide array of emotions she had not felt in a long time; feelings of empathy, pity and even a bit of curiosity. But by the end of their encounter, she found herself feeling something completely different towards the Hunter. Affection.

He had attempted to understand when others would judge. He had been willing to share things with her that not even those he was close to knew. It was hard to believe that only hours ago they had been locked in mortal combat, yet found themselves parting ways as if they were lifelong friends.

Despite herself, she found herself intrigued by the enigmatic hunter, wanting to learn more about who he was and where he came from. He had been more then willing to describe the events of his hunt, but his reason for coming to Yharnam remained a complete mystery. She understood that she should not get her hopes up, that he would almost certainly not be willing to share this part of his life with her, assuming he were to return at all. But he had been willing to reveal his given name, which by itself signified that he hailed from a completely foreign land.

Zoran. A most peculiar name indeed.

Maria's leaned her head back against her chair, struggling to keep her eyes open. She silently reminded herself that she shouldn’t let her guard down like this, for it would leave her completely vulnerable in the off-chance he decided to turn on her. But regardless of this potential danger, she soon found herself dozing off, plagued as she was with unrelenting boredom.

Just as it felt sleep was about to overtake her, she heard the sound of footsteps echoing through the stairwell to the Clocktower, causing her snap awake and turn her attention to the gate. There was little doubt in her mind as to who her visitor was, but she grabbed her weapon to prepare for the possibility of him resuming their hostilities. She kept her eyes trained on the doorway as he entered.

"What is the purpose of this visit?" She gently asked Zoran as he entered the Clocktower.

"I have something I wish to discuss with you. If I may." He responded in kind, which came as a surprise to her.

"Very well. You may enter." Maria beckoned him forward, placing her Rakuyo by her chair as Zoran made his way to the stairwell. As he settled down, she gently rubbed her eye in an effort to rid herself of her drowsiness.

“Everything alright?” He asked her, taking notice of her fatigue.

“Yes, of course. I must have drifted off, is all.” She replied, turning her attention back to her visitor.

"Now, what is it you wished to discuss?" She asked him, leaning forward in her chair.

"Well, see…I’ve been thinking about what you said." Zoran replied, causing Maria to take a moment to process what exactly he meant.

"In what regard?" She asked.

……………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………

The Forbidden Woods. A seemingly endless maze of lifeless trees and poisonous parasites. And the place where his journey had truly begun to go to hell.

Exiting the dilapidated windmill where he had begun his descent into the woods, the words of the strange figure that he had met there still ran through his head. Despite finding himself slightly unnerved by his rather aggressive manner of speaking, he found himself enthralled with his almost natural charisma and attentively listened as he outlined the purpose of his organization.

“_The League exists to expunge all vermin, ridding us of any trace of human corruption. And so, until we are rid of all vermin, you must continue to hunt and kill. This bloody fate is ours alone. Do not expect the world to grasp our work... But remember, the confederates will always have my blessing...”_

“_And each other. Always._”

Looking off to the side, he noticed a group of messengers holding up a bell, which signified that another hunter was calling on the aid of any that would answer. He had not yet taken advantage of this network of potential helpers, finding it to be an unnecessary hassle and nothing more. But the crushing isolation of his time In Yharnam had taken his toll on him and he found himself desperate for any sort of genuine interaction, all while placing a self-imposed exile on himself from his fellow hunters. Perhaps this was the change he so desperately needed.

Approaching the messengers, he hesitantly took out a small bell that had been granted to him on his arrival to the Dream and held it out in front of him; with it’s tolling echoing throughout the forest even as he was transported to another world.

……

He soon found himself back in the same spot he had been in earlier, except this time, he wasn’t alone. Before him stood a figure sporting the black garb of the Healing Church, wielding the rigid, bladed cane that had been offered to him in the early hours of the hunt and holstering Ludwig’s rifle on her side. Zoran was unsure of what to say, trying to remember the brief lecture Gehrman had given him about etiquette amongst hunters.

“Good day.” She politely greeted him, looking at him through her spectacles.

“Hello…” He hesitantly responded.

“I thank you for answering my call. Are you a fellow confederate?” She asked him, seeming rather upbeat considering her surroundings.

“Aye. And a newcomer at that.” He replied, trying to appear as composed as possible.

“Really? Well, that makes two of us then.” She held out her hand after she said this. “My name is Ilise. Pleasure to make your acquaintance.”

After a little while, he accepted her offered hand, not remembering the last time he had done something like this.

“Zoran. How may I be of service?” He asked her as he released her hand.

“I’m trying to get to Byrgenwerth. I was told by someone up above that I need to go through these woods in order to reach it and I’ve been trying to make heads or tails of it for hours, but… I can’t for the life of me find the proper path.” She admitted in slight embarrassment.

“Byrgenwerth, you say…”

Zoran took a moment to consider her situation, thinking back to his own time trying to find the proper path to the abandoned college. It had been a frustrating process to say the least, one that led to him discovering the eldritch truth behind everything that had occurred in Yharnam. For the sake of her sanity, it would’ve been best to send her away. But he could see that she was as determined as he had been to uncover that truth.

“Well, lucky for you, I know this forest like the back of my hand.” He said to her after a brief silence.

“Truly?! Oh, thank the heavens. I don’t think I can handle the sight of this forest any longer.” She exclaimed.

“Trust me, I know the feeling. Follow me, and stay close.”

With that, the two hunters made their way into the structure where the Master of the League had taken up residence, who lightly nodded at Zoran as they passed by, a gesture that seemed almost comical with the odd helm he wore. Taking the elevator down into the lower levels of the Forbidden Woods, he led his fellow hunter deeper into the forest, their combined skill making short work of whatever adversity blocked their path. As they went, he would drop coins on the ground so as to mark the proper way to go, in the off chance one of them was slain.

No matter how many times he ventured through it, he couldn’t shake the feeling of claustrophobia that gripped him as he made his way through the seemingly endless myriad of twisted and fallen trees. It might have also had some sort of hallucinatory effect, as he could’ve sworn he had spotted a figure clad in grey lurking among the trees. But at least he was no longer travelling alone.

Soon, he led her towards a shortcut that would ease her descent to the final stretches of the forest and together, they ascended to an abandoned, dimly lit building. Lighting the lantern attached to his belt, Zoran fought back the dread he felt as he recognized the location, wanting nothing more then to leave as soon as possible. As he turned to leave, he saw that his companion was looking up at an exit further up in the building, one that was forever etched in his memory.

“What are you doing?” He asked her in a slight panic.

“Oh, forgive me. Is it all-right if we make a slight detour? There’s this one path I missed while I was…”

“WAIT, DON’T!” He cried out just as she moved towards the staircase, causing her to turn around in surprise.

“What’s wrong? Did something startle you?” She asked him in light concern.

“No, it’s just…there’s nothing of value to be found over there. Best not to waste your time rummaging through every corner, you see.” He explained to her, who seemed rather suspicious of him, but didn’t seem ready to argue.

“Very well. Let us go onwards.”

The two soon found themselves walking along a flooded ravine, having cleared out the feral hogs that had roamed there on the way.

“If you don’t mind me asking, what is it that brought you to Yharnam?” He asked her, having avoided making small-talk throughout their trek.

“Oh. Well, you can say I came here to do a little historical research.” She responded rather cryptically.

“Of what kind?” He asked.

“Yharnam has always been an enigma among the scholars of my homeland. Its origins were shrouded in mystery, with many questioning whether it had existed to begin with. The more I read into it, the more outlandish the records seemed to get. Rumours of ancient civilizations carved out beneath the city, a college that aimed to ascend to the level of the Gods, a miraculous “blood ministration” that would cure any illness. The pieces were all laid out in front of me, yet I found myself unable to properly finish the puzzle. It was maddening.” She explained.

“So you decided to investigate from the source?” He asked her, who did not immediately respond.

“Yes. I had to pull a handful of strings, but I managed to organize an expedition to the city. But I never expected anything like this. Ever since I’ve arrived here, I’ve stumbled upon secret after secret, so many that I now understand less then I did when I started. And something tells me that this is a rabbit hole that never truly ends.” She solemnly stated, her confident demeanour suddenly disappearing.

“Frankly, I’m…afraid that when I finally do complete my search, no-one is going to believe me. I don’t even believe what I’m seeing is real a lot of the time.”

Zoran did not say anything in response, opting instead to travel the rest of the way in silence. They soon entered a wide area, with a thick fog blanketing the other end of the arena. Recognizing the area, he motioned for his companion to stop, before taking his axe in his hand and unholstering his pistol. She seemed to immediately understand what was about to happen, tightly gripping her own weapons as she nodded at him.

Three figures robed in black suddenly emerged from the mist, with two of them rushing towards the hunters while the other trailed behind them. They split up to face the shadows one-on-one, who proved to be fairly capable opponents on their own, but nowhere near as deadly as they were as a group. The third Shadow harassed the combatants with fiery projectiles, making their duel all the more hazardous.

After a while, their opponents doubled over in pain just before a group of parasites burst out of their chests, the two hunters taking the opportunity to regroup.

“Have any insight to share?” She asked him in between heavy breaths.

“Here, take this.” He said as he handed her a coarse paper. “Rub it against your weapon and then keep doing what you were doing. Don’t let your guard down for a second.” He instructed her before running to face the infected Shadows.

The pair soon gained the upper hand over their assailants, managing to slay the two sword-wielding shadows and turning their attention to the final figure, who seemed like an easy mark. As his companion rushed towards it, the robed figure was enveloped in a crimson aura, sinking to its knees and emitting a quiet murmur. Recognizing the attack, he sprinted towards his fellow hunter just as three giant snakes emerged from the ground.

“Get down!” He yelled at his companion as he pushed them out of the way of one of the serpents impending jaws.

After the creatures retreated back into the ground, they sprang to their feet and rushed the remaining figure together, with Zoran firing a shot from his pistol that prevented it from launching another fireball. Once they reached it, the Shadow was swiftly overwhelmed, with Zoran’s companion slicing through the snake-like parasites with her serrated whip before transforming it and impaling the shadow through the chest with her cane.

After it had faded away in a white mist, the female hunter approached him in between heaved breathes, lightly supporting herself on her weapon.

“Well…that was certainly unexpected. I would not have made it this far without you. You have my upmost thanks.” She said to him after she had collected herself.

“Pleasure was all mine. Just be sure not to let your guard down next time.” He replied, pride swelling in his chest.

“Oh, I will. I sometimes forget that just because I can’t really die, that doesn’t mean that I’m invincible.” She said with a slight chuckle.

The brief rush of pride he had experienced swiftly faded as Zoran remembered their situation. Their cooperation would soon come to a close and he would return to his own world, leaving her to continue her trek alone. But what awaited her beyond that college would almost certainly shatter her perception of the world around her and in the worst-case scenario, drive her to the brink of madness. He couldn’t stop her, but he had to at least prepare her for what lay ahead.

“May I speak frankly with you for a moment, Ilise?” He asked her, who seemed surprised by his request.

“Off course.” She stated in reply.

“If I had the power to do so, I would tell you to abandon your search and to return home as swiftly as you can, but I recognize that it is far to late for that. But I do see it fit to warn you. Prepare yourself for the worst.”

She looked back at him in surprise, not saying anything in response as he placed a hand on her shoulder.

“Soon, you will make a discovery that will shatter your perception of the world around you, leaving you questioning everything you thought you knew. You may think things are bad now, but I can assure you that it gets worse. So much worse.”

“No matter how hopeless your prospects may appear, just remember that there is still something waiting for you at the end of this dark road. And that if you ever find yourself feeling isolated, do not be afraid to call for aid, for someone will eventually answer. It may seem like it is so, but you are not alone.”

After looking back at him in silence for a few moments, Ilise soon nodded her head in understanding. Zoran backed away and pulled out a peculiar pistol that signified an end to inter-world cooperation.

“I’m afraid I must bid you farewell. I wish you the best of luck in your travels.” He said to his fellow hunter as he raised the pistol overhead.

“Glory to the League.” They said in unison as he returned to his own world.

……

Maria listened as Zoran proudly described the various cooperative hunts he had engaged in after that encounter. Working with his confederates, he had helped each of them overcome a seemingly insurmountable challenge, all while trying to steer them away from the same self-imposed isolation he had gone through.

She couldn’t keep herself from smiling as he rambled about his various escapades, with the hunter showing just that little amount of energy that had been completely absent when they had last spoken. The fact that he had made the effort to reconnect with the world, even in so minor a fashion all on his own was progress enough.

“A noble endeavour, good hunter.” She complimented him and if his face weren’t obscured by a mask, she was sure he was smiling.

One aspect of his story caught her attention. He had spoken in glowing terms about the leader of his new order, though for whatever reason he did not refer to him by name. His description of him seemed similar to someone she had known long ago, who had seemingly vanished without a trace.

“This master that you spoke off. What was his name?” She inquired.

“Oh. I believe it was…Valtr?” Upon hearing that name, Maria’s eyes widened in surprise.

“By the Gods. He still lives…?” She said more to herself then to him.

“You knew him?” Zoran inquired in surprise.

“He was a hunter many years ago, starting around the same time I arrived at the Workshop. I remember him being an…interesting fellow, to say the least.” She revealed, smiling as she did.

“What happened to him?” Zoran asked her.

“Him and Gehrman always had… disagreements in terms of how to approach the hunt. Sometimes, it was hard to tell who was in command, for whenever Valtr chose to speak, he commanded the attention of everyone in the room. I distinctly remember that after a disastrous journey into the Tombs, he came to bid me farewell, telling me that he had found a new calling. He was very cryptic about it, but that was the last any of us ever saw of him. We never did figure out what happened to him after that.” She explained, which seemed to come of great surprise to her visitor.

“He came to you? How come?” He inquired, which prompted her to turn her head slightly to the side as a small smile formed on her face.

“You see, in the beginning, I was somewhat of an outcast among my fellows. He was the only one other then Gehrman that made the effort to make me feel welcomed, to help me adjust to this new way of life. He was a dear friend; honourable, strong-willed and loyal to a fault.” She explained, as she turned to look back at her visitor.

“Sounds like he hasn’t changed a bit. I always did wonder what became of him, but it seems like he found the perfect calling for himself in the end. It’s nice to know at least one of us managed to do so.” She solemnly stated.

“Yes. He is very…shall we say, passionate about his work.” Zoran stated somewhat passively, which caught Maria’s attention.

“Are you?” She softly asked him, causing him to look up at her.

“I’m not sure I understand.” He said in confusion.

“The League’s mission. Are you prepared to commit to it?” She restated her question.

He appeared slightly taken aback by the question, casting his gaze to the side as he no doubt tried to formulate a reply.

“There are certain… complications with being part of the League. By simply swearing the oath, I put my own sanity into jeopardy, for staring into the face of mankind’s impurity runs the risk of driving those who witness it to madness. I’ve been lucky enough to avoid such a fate thus far, but I somehow doubt I’m formidable enough to evade it forever.” He admitted, lowering his gaze as he spoke.

“What of your compatriots?” She continued her questioning.

“Oh, that was undoubtably the most inviting aspect of the League and I maintain that it’s the closest I’ve felt to belonging since I’ve arrived here. But you see, I only ever interact with them for mere moments at a time, barely, if ever learning their real names. And I seldom see them again, for they no doubt have duties of their own to fulfill. I’m grateful that I no longer have to travel alone, but… I can’t fall back on them, not truly. At best, they’re a helpful distraction, something to take my mind of things.” He answered, meeting her eyes after he had finished speaking.

“What do you think?”

Maria looked back at her visitor with a slight surprise, taking a moment to realize he was asking for her advice. One would think they had known each other far longer then they had, considering how casually he had done so.

“If you’re having second thoughts, there’s nothing to be ashamed off. I recommend that you take some time to figure out whether this is something you wish to commit to, but regardless of your decision, you should continue to cooperate with your fellow hunters. I believe it’s a step in the right direction for you.” She told him, which Zoran took a moment to ponder before he nodded at her in understanding.

“Yes, you’re right. I’ll be sure to do just that.” He said to her as he stood up from his seat. “I must take my leave. Thank you for your time.” He stated, which she acknowledged with a simple nod. He then began to make his way towards the gates of the Clocktower.

"Hold on a moment." She called out behind her, which judging by the silence that befell the room had stopped his march. Standing up from her seat, she only had to walk a few steps until she was in front of him. Maria took out an item from inside her coat jacket; a small wooden cross attached to a chain. "Here. You dropped this some time ago." She said as she held it out to him.

After staring at the item for some time, Zoran put a hand to his neck as if he were checking to make sure something was there. Upon doing this, he finally took the cross from her, holding it in the palm of his hand as he looked at it with a trace of melancholy. "What?" She asked.

"Nothing, it's just... in the past, the prospect of loosing this thing terrified me more then loosing a limb. Yet had you not brought this to my attention, I probably wouldn't have noticed it was missing at all." She was sure he was exaggerating, but his explanation nevertheless struck a chord with her. She imagined he had been a faithful follower of his religion up until he came here; after all, what he had seen would undermine the faith of even the most ardent preachers.

"Well, thank you again, in any case." He said as he put the chain around his neck. "I'd...best be going now. I have other matters to attend to, after all." She nodded her understanding, which he did in kind before he turned to continue the way he was going.

“Best of luck. Do be sure to give Valtr my regards.” She called out to him as he walked away, again causing him to stop for a brief moment.

“Of course. Until we meet again.” He said in response.

“I look forward to it.” She said before he continued on his way to the exit, leaving Maria alone in her thoughts yet again.

……..

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Author's Note: So I'm sure you've seen the direction in the story summary, so I'll cut right to the chase. I've long been considering publishing a separate set of stories which added some explanation as to what happened in the time jump between Chapters 2 and 3, but I had this one distinct idea that by itself served as a major turning point in the narrative. So I've opted instead to expand the original story, both to show how their relationship developed throughout that time and to expand both of their characters, as well as to fix some aspects of the original that I thought didn't make much sense *cough* Simon's side-plot *cough*.
> 
> Unfortunately, this meant I had to shift the timeline of occurrences a little bit, so be warned that the story will be a complete mess for the next couple weeks as I catch up. But don't worry, the ending(s) will remain the same and I didn't cut anything out from the original, although one event has been completely reworked, as you will soon see. If you're new, don't read past this chapter.
> 
> I apologize to anyone who already likes this story as is, but I do hope the final product will be an improvement on what I already have.


	4. Ein Kirchhof war der Garten

The Research Hall was eerily quiet, the patients that roamed its halls and spiraling staircases having been strapped to their assigned beds by the handful of staff that still remained, who themselves had retired for the night. The only source of noise were the footsteps of it’s returning guardian, who had just returned from a meeting with the Vicar of the Healing Church.

She had gone to beg Laurence to put a stop to the experiments, to the cruel conditions and procedures the patients had been subjected to. When he had dismissed her, stating that each of them was a stepping stone to a far greater goal, she had erupted in a rage, chastising the former Byrgenwerth scholar for being blind to the suffering he had inflicted through his blind pursuit of a higher calling. Laurence had been quick to point out her hypocrisy, that she was just as culpable as he was, if not more.

Maria’s appearance lent credence to his words. Her eyes were sunken, her face almost expressionless as she forced herself to climb the stairwell that led to the Hall. She had scarcely slept in the past several days, only eating when one of the doctors under her watch brought her a meal out of concern, before retreating just as quickly as the former hunter all but shouted for her to leave. Having isolated herself from her colleagues and friends, the only company Maria had left was the voice of Mother Kos, cursing her for the part she played on that fateful night.

“_Mother is dead, her baby taken. Mother is dead, her baby taken!”_

She hurried into the room where the elevator to the upper levels of the Research Hall was located, drowning out the stench of the dissolving bodies of the latest set of failures, which now seemed to number in the hundreds. She had been close so many times and even then, it had not been enough. So many had been reduced to shells of their former selves; skeletal, pale and begging for her help as their minds withered away, seemingly forgetting that they had only her to blame for their condition.

She closed the door as she entered the room, pressing her forehead against it as searing tears welled in her eyes. Despite this, she felt hollow. She had nothing left: no home, no family, no purpose. All that was left was a husk of what was once a proud warrior, an individual who’s confidence radiated in every room she entered.

“Is that you, Lady Maria?” A voice rang out behind her, causing Maria to turn her head towards the source.

It was her. The blood saint that had volunteered for the process a few months ago, eager to be a part of something greater. She had shown promise from the start, so much so that Maria had taken her under her personal care, nurturing her into what she hoped would be the breakthrough she had been seeking for so long.

Yet as time went on, she found herself growing fond of the patient. She had been one of the few to have retained some semblance of sentience as her transformation progressed, allowing her to communicate no differently then if she were still a normal human. Maria had confided in her more times then she cared to admit, sitting and talking with her until the early hours of the morning. And unlike her other patients, she had even learned her name.

“Adeline. Forgive me, I didn’t mean to intrude.” She said to the patient, who was strapped to a chair on the other end of the room.

“No need to apologize, my lady. Tell me, how is Laurence? It has been long since I’ve spoken to him.” Adeline said, her current condition leaving her unaware of Maria’s current disgruntled state.

“He is well.” She lied. “How are you feeling?” She gently asked, trying her hardest to hide her distress.

“Oh, I’m elated. I can hear it, plain as day. That wonderful sticky sound. Drip, drop. Slip, slop.” She said before giggling in delight, which only served to worsen Maria’s guilt.

“Tell me, Lady Maria. Do you think that water drips, even down deep below, at the bottom of the sea?”

Maria could not bring herself to answer her question, instead turning her head and moving towards the elevator in the room, desperate to rid herself of this depressing sight.

“My lady? Is something troubling you?” The Blood Saint’s question froze Maria in her tracks. Somehow, she always seemed to know if she was having doubts.

“I’m simply tired, is all. I was just going to have a short rest.” She lied again, but it seemed Adeline saw right through it.

“Come now, there’s no need to hide your troubles. Have a seat. I would be happy to listen.”

The offer caught Maria off guard and after a few moments of indecision, she moved away from the elevator and sat herself down on a nearby chair.

“Do you think ill of me?” She asked her patient, who tilted her head to the side in confusion.

“Why would I?” Adeline asked.

“Do you not feel like you’ve been wronged by me? By the procedures I’ve had you undergo? By the way I’ve treated you like a specimen rather then a person?” Maria clarified; her voice devoid of any sort of emotion.

“Of course not. Before I came here, I was nothing. A simple blood-saint among dozens of others, all but invisible. But now, I have something that guides me…guides me towards something greater. And I owe it all to you.” She earnestly admitted, but while she no doubt meant for it to elevate Maria’s spirits, it had the complete opposite effect.

It broke her heart to see Adeline in such a state, relishing her growing insanity and swaying like an excited child as she was strapped to a chair, needles protruding from her arms as a result of her offering to provide her blood to treat the ever growing number of patients as their supply ran dry; remaining blissfully unaware of the sorry condition she was in. She deserved so much better than this. All of the patients in this hall did.

“Here. I wanted you to have this.” Maria took out a key that she had used to access a balcony where she had gone to relish the smell of the gardens below, gently placing it in Adeline’s hand.

“What is this, Lady Maria?” She asked, her voice full of curiosity.

“I’ll be going away for the next little while. When someone comes by, show them this. They’ll understand.” She said to her, closing her fist around the key as she did so.

“When will you be back?” Adeline inquired, as Maria slightly tightened her hold on the patient’s hand.

“I don’t know.” She said in reply, holding back tears.

Rising to her feet, Maria made her way to the lever that controlled the elevator to the upper levels of the Research Hall. She did not say a word as the contraption slowly made its way down, the sound of it’s descent echoing throughout the room before the door finally opened.

“Good night, Lady Maria.” Maria turned towards the patient one last time, forcing a small smile onto her face even though she could not see it.

“Farewell, Saint Adeline.” She managed to choke out, stepping into the elevator and beginning her ascent to the upper floors, leaving her alone in her quarters.

After she exited the lift, Maria’s back slumped against a nearby wall, sinking to the floor and pulling her knees against her chest. She pulled out a small container she had pocketed in the lower levels of the hall, her hand shaking as the tears began to stream down her face. Lowering her head so they rested against her curried knees, she descended into a fit of sobbing, the hurricane of guilt and hopelessness that raged within finally becoming too much for her to bear.

…….

Maria was snapped awake by the tolling of the bell, her eyes darting around the room in a brief moment of panic. She had been spared from reliving the worst part of that night, where she had spiked her drink with poison and slowly perished, every moment filled with indescribable agony. Little did she know that her torment was just beginning.

These torturous visions had become a common occurrence in her time in the Nightmare, leaving her afraid of closing her eyes lest she relive another painful memory. But left with nothing to keep her occupied, she finally succumbed to her fatigue, dozing off in her chair as the calming smell of the gardens blew in from outside.

After collecting her bearings, she swept up her Rakuyo and moved towards the gates of the Clocktower, hoping that some fresh air would help calm her down. The massive Lumenwood in the gardens outside the Clocktower swayed in the breeze as Maria walked amongst the smaller flowers that grew around it, the space seeming a lot emptier without its celestial caretakers.

The beings that had resided in the gardens were the closest she had ever gotten to achieving the Church’s goal of creating a being that can commune with the Great Ones. Years of trial and error, as well as overwhelming amounts of mind-numbing medicine, had let them evolve into something beyond human; but even then, the astral powers they had commanded were seen as incredibly simple, only worsened by the lack of control her and the other caretakers seemed to have over them. Thus, they were branded failures and were discarded as superfluous, leaving her no choice but to start anew.

The former hunter lowered herself to her knees as she admired the peculiar flowers, taking in their scent as she picked out what seemed to be the most developed of the bunch. She had always been fond of the plants, for they provided even a semblance of relief from the pungent smell of the halls below, both to her and to her patients. But they also served as a small reminder of the life she had left behind.

She hearkened back to her time training with Gehrman, of the vast field of white flowers that had bloomed beside the Workshop. It was there where she had matured as a warrior; slowly, but surely surpassing each of her fellow hunters in prowess. She still remembered the day when she had finally bested her mentor in a duel; it had been the only time out of hundreds she had managed it, but the prideful look in Gehrman’s eyes had filled her with a joy that hasn’t been trumped since.

Maria signed as she continued to stare at the flower. Those had been the happiest days of life; she had a place to call home, a community to call her own, her whole life carved out in front of her. How naïve she had been back then, not aware of the torment that awaited her. She had hoped the Church would fill the void that the hunt had left behind; but now, she would give anything to return to those times.

“Out for some air, I see?”

Maria was startled by the sudden noise, grabbing her weapon and spinning around to strike the intruder. As they skilfully blocked her incoming attack, her eyes widening as she recognized who it was.

“Zoran?!” She exclaimed as she saw the hunter griping the handle of his axe with both hands, his eyes widened in shock. “Gods, I’m so sorry…I could’ve killed you…” She breathlessly tried to apologize as she backed away from him, covering her face with her hand in embarrassment.

“Killed me again, you mean?” He corrected her, the casual way he referred to their bloody battles catching her by surprise.

“Right, but…still…” She slowly realized her mistake, with silence falling over the gardens as the two hunters caught their bearings.

“Listen, if you’re not in the mood, I can come back another time and…” Zoran started to say before she interrupted him.

“No, no, it’s fine. I just…I still haven’t grown used to this, is all.” She admitted, looking of to the side before she remembered the topic of their last meeting. “Did you come to a decision?” She asked him.

“Yes, I…I visited Master Valtr just a couple hours ago to discuss that very thing. He seemed to know what I was there for before I even started speaking.” He stated, also opting to pretend their violent greeting hadn’t happened.

“And what did he say?” She continued, having regained her usual demeanor.

“He said that I was free to leave whenever I saw fit, but that he was somewhat disheartened that I was leaving. Apparently, he had higher hopes for me.” He replied, seeming somewhat saddened as he did.

“How so?” She inquired, genuinely curious.

“He explained that he had long ago lost the ability to see the vermin that the League sought to exterminate, leaving him all but useless to our order. He has long been searching for someone to replace him, so he may return to the life of a simple confederate and leave the position of Master in more capable hands.” As Zoran spoke, Maria realized the hopes Valtr had placed on him.

“Did you accept?” He stood in silence for a moment before responding.

“I was honored. Truly, I was, but…I unfortunately had to turn him down. I just can’t see myself doing this forever. Besides, I’m no leader; never was, never will be.” He appeared slightly downcast as he spoke, seemingly unsure if he had made the right decision.

“Zoran, you were not beholden to accept. If you don’t think you’re ready for that type of commitment, there’s no shame in stepping back.” She told him, stepping a little closer to him.

“I know, but…I felt like I owed it to him somehow. The League gave me a sense of camaraderie, a sense of purpose even; and to simply turn away an opportunity like that, when he truly thought I was worthy of it just feels wrong.” Maria placed a hand on his shoulder, with the hunter looking up at her in slight surprise.

“But it was your decision to make, not his. Don’t let a sense of duty cloud your judgement.”

Zoran seemed to take a moment to ponder her words, eventually acknowledging them with a silent nod, with Maria offering a small smile in return.

“I presume that isn’t the only reason you’re here?” She asked.

“I suppose you can say I’ve come across a revelation of sorts since we last spoke.” He said in response, eliciting a soft sigh from her.

“Come inside. Tell me what happened.” She instructed him, leading him back into her sanctuary and allowing them to take their usual spots, with the hunter beginning his latest story.

……..

Looking over the edge of the railing, Zoran could see the interior of the Grand Cathedral, where he had discovered the late Vicar Amelia praying at the altar of the one who had built this institution from the ground up.

He did not know if she had been aware of the heinous acts the Choir had committed, but it would not have come as a great surprise. It seemed far more likely to him that the authority of the Vicar had been severely eroded in recent years, with the Choir and the School of Mensis engaging in a power struggle that enveloped all of Yharnam, as she found herself incapable of bringing them to heel.

Yet what he found in the Upper Cathedral Ward had shaken him to his very core, completely shattering any illusion as to the true nature of the Healing Church.

The orphanage of the Cathedral Ward had been a testing ground for the Choir’s continued attempts to make contact with the Great Ones, devoted as they were to their fanatical view of themselves as their “delegation”. Their emissaries had sprouted from the ground almost like weeds, threatening to overwhelm him before he managed to slay the one that was bending them to it’s whim, freeing them from their painful existence.

This hadn’t been the first time he had come into contact with the fruits of their labour, having discovered that the doctor Iosefka and the patients under her care had been transformed into similar creatures by a follower of the Choir, who had appropriated her clinic into a personal laboratory. He had slain the impostor, catching her in the act of attempting the ingestion of an unknown object, no doubt part of another twisted ritual.

During his journey, he had never felt like he was safe, as danger seemed to lurk around every corner. But this part of the Cathedral Ward brought about a different type of dread; where he was truly terrified to see what awaited him at the end. What eldritch truth about the beings these fanatics pursued lay ready to be uncovered.

The Great Ones. That’s what it all came back to. The inherent desire to ascend humanity to a new plane of existence, where they could stand as one with the Gods. It was a goal that Byrgenwyrth, the Church and its successors had been willing to go to any lengths to achieve. And it had resulted in nothing but untold suffering.

Zoran made his way to the elevator at the other end of the walkway, unsure of what other secret lay in wait. But as he entered what looked like a vast cavern, the inside of his head seemed to swell, as it often did when he stumbled upon something he wasn't supposed to see.

An eldritch creature seemed to prostrate itself on the other end of the cavern, a few thin rays of light shining upon an altar resembling a creature he had slain to shatter the illusion of the world around him. The hunter cautiously approached it, tightly gripping his axe in preparation, ineffective as it may be against such a foe. Yet as he got closer, it did not pay him any attention, not so much as shifting as he waded through the knee-deep water and came to a rest right beside it.

A dozen tentacles lay in a heap around the creature, its almost skeletal wings drooping as its head rested against the ground. But instead of filling him with terror, it evoked a most unexpected feeling.

Pity.

Unsure of what to do, Zoran approached the creature, hesitantly reaching out a hand towards it’s enormous, heaving head. Just as he was about to touch it, it suddenly began to rise from its stupor, water dripping from its head as it rose to its full height, towering over the hunter. Two green eyes protruded from a mess of tubes on either side of its head, a red mound of flesh at it’s centre. Despite the disturbance, she did not attack, instead looking down at her visitor like a curious child would at an ant.

The hunter looked up at the forgotten Great One, its grotesque appearance giving way to a strange, otherworldly beauty, as if he were staring at the cosmos themselves. To think that there were so many more just like her, hiding in plain site in the world around him and whispering from the heavens without form. And that so many are still blissfully unaware of their existence.

Almost subconsciously, Zoran raised one arm above his head and extended another to the side, mimicking a statue that he had come across in the upper levels of the ward. The creature seemed to tilt its head to the side in curiosity, but did not seem to react beyond that, even as the hunter continued the position for almost a minute. He proceeded to slowly change the positions of his arms, moving them as if they were the hands of a clock and making it so he maintained the position on the other side.

After a few moments of tense silence, the Great One slowly lifted up two of it's twisted limbs and raised them over it's head, it's almost skeletal wings rising along with them. As this happened, Zoran gripped his weapon, preparing himself to move out of the way of the attack that would surely follow. However, he could see something forming above the creature; an exceptionally bright light. The hunter shielded his eyes from the blinding light as the creature threw it's limbs to either side and after he was certain that the sudden flash had passed, he opened his eyes. And the sight that met him made him audibly gasp.

The cave they were in was now darkened and all around him swirled thousands, if not millions of stars. He stared in awe at the expansive cosmos, his gaze slowly making it's way up towards the very center of this miniature universe. All of the stars seemed to be flowing into this singular ball of light, slowly rising higher and higher until they came together at that singular point. And as he stood there transfixed, a series of incomprehensible whispers erupted in his head, though they did not seem to cause him any pain even as they continued to grow in volume. Yet, it felt as if the thoughts in his mind were not his own, but rather the attempt of communication by some higher power. He could not make out the mutterings, but he somehow understood the emotions with which they were delivered. Pain. Loneliness. Regret.

He had never seen anything like it. It was...

"_Beautiful..._"

He finally tore his eyes away from the light as he heard someone speak in a strange, faintly feminine voice. His eyes darted around to discover that the creature, who had put on this display for him, was still there. It was itself looking up towards the light, yet somehow the way it did so made it seem as if it was...longing for it. There was a sense of melancholy about the creature as it continued to look up towards the heavens, not paying any attention to it's human visitor. And he now understood why.

This had been the being the Choir discovered deep within the Tombs, the one that had supposedly aided them in their research of the “cosmos”, helping them peer into the great beyond. But she wasn’t doing it out of charity, but for a very specific reason. She was trying to ascend as well.

Having been left behind by her fellow Great Ones, this creature was left alone in the labyrinth, looking towards the stars in a vain attempt to achieve the greatness she was supposedly destined for. To that end, she had provided the Choir with her blood, which they used to perfect the methods of the Research Hall and transform the orphans under their watch into true Kin.

But the failures continued to pile up and soon, the Choir was on it’s last legs, it’s scholars succumbing to the beastly scourge one by one. And through it all, she remained here; abandoned and all but forgotten, yearning to transcend this limited plane of existence. 

The light began to dissipate and soon, the breathtaking display of stars faded away to reveal the depressing cavern the two of them were in. The creature lowered it's head and drooped it's wings, it's emotionless mess of flesh and tubes doing little to hide it's sadness from him. Zoran found himself wanting to help it in some way, not wanting to live it trapped here. But what was he, a mere mortal, to do?

"What is your name?" He verbally asked, unsure of whether the creature would even understand him. Much to his surprise, it looked in his direction and after curiously looking down at him for a little while, projected another message into his mind.

"_Ebrietas__.." _That voice again. It sounded so...sorrowful. 

"You want to be up there. Among the stars with your brethren." He stated this more as an acknowledgement then a question.

"_Yes."_ Much like last time, this message caused something to write deep within his head. He could tell that this was the most he would get from her: single words and simple phrases. It was clearly difficult enough for her to communicate with him like this; the fact that he could understand her at all was itself a miracle. This was no doubt what Willem had been seeking for so long, to bring his thoughts to a level where they would even come close to matching those of a being of her splendor. Yet instead of feeling pride or joy, Zoran found himself sharing in this "Ebrietas's" sadness. And he understood now why she had shown him that brief glimpse of a higher plane.

"What must I do?" He asked her.

Ebrietas began to lower herself down so her head was mere inches away from the hunter, dozens of black eyes staring back at him. At first, he was unsure of how to continue, afraid that even the slightest movement would startle the creature. Yet it didn’t so much as budge, instead appearing as if it was beckoning him forward.

And suddenly, a single, desperate plea passed through Zoran’s mind.

“_Free….me….”_

The hunter looked up at the Great One, who’s expressionless mess of flesh now seemed to be plagued with sadness. He had no idea how he could possibly honor her request, how a mere mortal could possibly kill a being of her power, much less in a way that was humane. Eventually, he pulled out a long silver sword that had been a common weapon amongst the hunters of the Church and approached the creature, who did not move from her position.

He hovered the blade just in front of the Great One’s head, its numerous eyes closing in anticipation. Placing a hand on the center of its head, Zoran slowly eased the blade into the exposed flesh, which the creature did not even seem to react to, as minor of a wound that it was to one it’s size. He kept the sword embedded in its head, staying in his position for an untold amount of time until its stirring tentacles seemed to go limp. In short time, her body began to fade into a ethereal white particles, until the Great One's entire body had fully dissipated. Still holding the blood covered sword, Zoran watched as they traveled up to the small opening at the top of the cave, where a few rays of light from the outside still poured in.

“Be one with the sky, Daughter of the Cosmos.” He uttered to the late Great One.

Turning to leave the cave, the hunter took one more look at the weapon he was carrying, before wordlessly discarding it into the water and continuing on his way to the lift that had brought him here. As he exited the desolate building, Zoran did not look back for even a moment as he crossed the bridge that led to the Healing Church workshop, the skyline of the city they had pushed to the brink of destruction layed out below him. But as he made his way further away from the building, he could make out a single, broken message.

“_Thank…you…”_

…...

Maria leaned back in her chair; her head hung low as she listened to the horrific revelations. All the things that Zoran had described: The Choir, the exploration of the labyrinths, the usage of orphaned children as test subjects; had all stemmed from the very building they found themselves in. From the very experiments she had overseen and abetted.

To think that the Church had gone in the direction that it did only worsened her already overwhelming guilt, as even in death, she had somehow managed to bring misery to countless more innocent souls. This was the legacy she had left behind.

“Are you alright?” She looked up at her visitor, having almost forgotten he was there.

“Yes, of course.” She swiftly responded, trying to mask her shock from the concerned hunter. How had it come to the point when the Church was willing to kidnap and experiment on orphaned children, for a goal that she had long tried and failed to achieve. Unless…

“He’s gone, isn’t he?” Zoran seemed to immediately understand who she was referring to, silently nodding. “Did he at least die human?” This time all the hunter did was turn his head to the side, but his silence provided all the information she needed.

Their relations have never been ideal, in no small part because of the distrust Laurence exhibited towards her due to her Vileblood heritage in the first few years they knew each-other. But a mutual respect was eventually established between them, though she hesitated to call them “friends”; rather close and trusted colleagues. In any case, she received no joy from the news of his passing. She had recognized that Laurence had not been acting himself in the last few times she had spoken with him, becoming more erratic and obsessive in his decision-making and shutting himself away from his followers, as if he were hiding something. Really, it should’ve been obvious to her what he was hiding.

“What was he like?” Zoran suddenly asked, drawing her attention once again. “Almost everything about present day Yharnam can be traced back to him, but beyond that, I have no idea who he really was.” Maria looked of to the side as she struggled to formulate a reply.

“Laurence, well…let’s just say he had a lot to prove.” She stated simply.

“From the beginning he was convinced that what he was doing was just and most of us followed him without question, all while he ensured that the more radical members of the Church were kept in line. But Laurence’s ambition was terminal. He was brilliant, that much is certain; but it was clear to anyone who knew him that he was desperate to escape Willem’s shadow.” And Maria knew Laurence well; maybe too well.

“He was the one who authorized your experiments, was he not? If he was trying to set himself apart, why would he take so much inspiration from him?” He asked in a tone that made it clear he had doubts about the picture she painted of him.

“Laurence and Willem were ultimately striving towards the same goal, the only major difference being the methods with which they went about trying to achieve it. He allowed this hall to operate in order to appease those that still remained devoted to Willem’s vision, but made it distinctly clear that all the experiments were to be strictly voluntary and limited to members of the Church only.” She continued.

“Part of the reason I was here was because he asked me to keep them in line, but from the beginning it was clear that they answered to Laurence, not me. And when it seemed that his authority was slipping, they began to grow more…ambitious in their efforts.” She revealed, which seemed to come of great surprise to the hunter.

“And the blood? If he knew of its effects, why did he insist on administering it to the masses?” Zoran inquired, still skeptical as to the true nature of Laurence’s character.

“Believe it or not, he truly believed the Old Blood could be used as a source of good and took it upon himself to find a way to quell it’s more…unsavory side-effects. As time went on, this goal turned into an obsession and as the scale of the scourge accelerated, he became desperate. He hid the connections between beast hood and his treatments, trying to shift the blame on the growing number of new arrivals to Yharnam while granting Ludwig sweeping authority in order to combat the scourge. But soon his mind began to crumble and the foundations of the Church crumbled with him.” Her eyes drifted to the floor as she found herself wondering how the Church would’ve looked like had Laurence’s vision come to pass, of the good he could’ve done.

“Well, I’m sure you know the saying. The road to hell is paved with good intentions.” She paused briefly then, her eyes shifting to the side.

“I would know.”

A brief silence settled over the Clocktower as neither hunter seemed to know what to say. Maria's attention settled on a small wooden cross that hung from a chain around Zoran's neck; it lacked the intricate design of the symbol carried by hunters of the Church and had an additional two crossbeams, with the bottom one slanted. She recognized it as a symbol of the Orthodox Church, an institution that hadn't held sway in these lands since the days of the Romans.

“Would you consider yourself a religious man, Zoran?” She asked him, which drew his attention back to her.

“Before coming here, I was. Devoutly, at that. But discovering that not only are the Gods real, but that they are hidden in plain sight, completely uncaring for our plights unless they can make some use of us is…it’s a lot to take in.” He admitted, a small smile forming on her face as she remembered the first time she had been made aware of the existence of the Great Ones.

“Easy to feel insignificant, isn’t it?” She said, more as a statement then a question.

"That's putting it lightly. It's almost like everything I thought I knew has just...evaporated. Knowing what I know now, I can't possibly return to the life I had before; because even if I purge all these wretched eyes from my head, I know they're there. And to make matters worse, no one is going to believe me."

Maria mulled over his words. So many had gone mad in pursuit of these eldritch Gods, yet so many more were unaware that they even existed; dismissing those who recognized the unfortunate truth as heretics and madmen. But in her time, she found that enlightenment seldom led to prosperity.

"Knowledge has always been a double-edged sword. Many brilliant minds went unnoticed during their lifetimes, their insight dismissed as heresy. Some folded and took the truth to the grave, while others remained steadfast in their views. And overtime, their ideas would become engraved into how we view the world." She paused briefly before continuing, with Zoran listening to her address with a keen interest.

"Knowledge on it's own is neither a curse nor a blessing. How you choose to use it is what tips that scale."

After she had finished, Zoran began to slowly clap his hands, causing her to tilt her head in confusion at his actions.

"How very profound..." He stated in such a manner that she wasn't sure if he was being sincere or if he was teasing her.

"I'm just happy to see that you're getting something from this." She responded, choosing to play along.

"Oh, by all means, do go on. We'll be sure to fulfill Old Willem's vision in no time." He jested, his sudden shift in conduct baffling Maria.

"Very funny." Was all she managed to respond with. As the two sat in silence, Maria scrambled to find a way to continue the conversation.

“Since we're on the subject, remind me again. How did you manage to communicate with that creature?” She inquired, the method he had used was still unclear to her.

“Funny you should ask, actually. Just before, I ran across a rather peculiar statue...or at least I hope it was a statue." He began, though she failed to see how it was relevant to her question.

"And?" She encouraged him to continue, deciding to humor him.

Well, see, it was staring at the moon and it's arms were raised in this very strange position; like it was trying to contact something. I guess it just…popped into my head at that moment.” He explained, leaving Maria in a state of disbelief.

“You made contact with a Great One…by improvising?” She stated in a mixture of confusion and amusement.

“I suppose you can say that.” He lightheartedly replied, leaving Maria even more curious.

“Show me how.”

Zoran looked at her with a slight uncertainty, taken aback by the request. He soon rose to his feet, raising one arm overhead and extending another to the side, his position almost mimicking the hands of the clock behind him. Maria covered her mouth with one of her hands, stifling a laugh as she took in the ridiculous sight before her.

“What?” The hunter asked in surprise and more then a little embarrassment.

“You’ll forgive me, it’s just…” She began as she regained her composure, even though she could not shake the smile that formed on her face. “You look absolutely ridiculous.”

He didn’t say anything in response, instead opting to shift the positioning of his arms so they formed a parallel pattern. As he did so, she could’ve sworn she saw him raise one his eyebrows upwards, almost as if he were smiling back at her. She slightly shook her head in amusement, both at his comical position and what it represented.

“So after all this time, I would've had better luck raising my hands to the heavens and hoping for a response.” She remarked, eliciting a slight chuckle from her visitor, who finally decided to lower his arms.

“Before I forget, I…I have something for you.” He said as he reached into the bag that was strapped over his shoulder.

Maria could only look back in surprise as he pulled out a collection of books, before approaching her and offering them to her.

“You’ll get more use out of them then I. Besides, I imagine it can get quite dull here.” He explained, though Maria had still not shaken of the surprise his actions had instilled in her.

She hesitantly accepted his offer, taking the books in her hands and briefly observing the spines of each book, finding works authored by Von Goethe, Hugo and Chaucer. She began to wonder where he had gotten these, as to her knowledge Zoran had not expressed a particular interest in literature. That’s when an obscure memory found its way into her mind.

“These are Gehrman’s, aren’t they?” She asked, realizing she was holding a small part of the Workshop in her hands.

“I may have…appropriated a few of his books. If he knew, he didn’t try to stop me.” He acknowledged, with Maria looking up at him with a look of slight astonishment on her face, which soon shifted into a smile.

“An odd hunter you are indeed. Thank you.” She said in earnest, looking on as Zoran bowed his head and moved to leave the Clocktower, disappearing through its gates once again.

After he had left, Maria began to read, yet no matter how long she spent poring over the books, she did not tire. She had developed a love for reading during her time at the workshop, something she had been unable to do with Cainhurst's strict censorship laws. Though with the sheer size of Gehrman’s collection, she had never been able to properly go through them all. Happy to have something to take her mind of the nightmare that swirled around her, she ended up finishing all three novels by the time he returned.

He brought three more with him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Author's Note: Hope you enjoyed this lore-heavy chapter. It may seem a bit odd how the last two chapters pretty much turned into character studies, but I really wanted to devote some time to the two most important concepts in all of Bloodborne, which I felt I unjustly skimmed over last time. Some may disagree with my characterization of Laurence, but I always saw him as someone who aimed to leave a lasting, positive impact on humanity and ultimately became blind to the suffering he caused, desperate as he was to achieve what he thought was his destiny.
> 
> Oh and in case you're curious, the books were The Sorrows of Young Werther, The Hunchback of Notre Dame and The Canterburry Tales. Make of that what you will.


	5. Ein Blumenbeet das Grab

The incense of Oedon Chapel greeted Zoran as he faded in from the Hunter’s Dream, glancing around the sanctuary to find that all the people he had sent there were still there. The old women rested in a chair by the right-hand exit, seeming a lot calmer than she was when he had last spoken-or rather attempted to speak to her. The narrow-minded man aptly reclined on a pedestal at the back of the Chapel, the mere act of convincing him to come here serving as a greater challenge then most beasts he’s encountered thus far. The blood-saint Adella sat on a fallen pillar, turning her head to the newly-arrived hunter and smiling at him, with the hunter offering a slight nod in response.

After being abducted by an overwhelmingly powerful brute, he found himself trapped in an unfamiliar part of the city, where he happened upon the blood saint kneeling in terrified prayer not far from his crumbling cell. Himself unsure of how to escape, Zoran took her along with him so they could search for a way out of the area together, not keen on the idea of setting her out on her own in so perilous a location; she did prove herself capable of defending herself to an extent, but that meant little in the face of the odds they faced. They eventually found their way out and in gratitude, Adella offered him a vial of her blood, an offer he had to turn down. Instead, he gave her a strange weapon that Gilbert had given him some time ago, telling her to keep it close by in order to protect herself and the others if need be.

Turning around, he saw another of the people he had brought to the chapel kneeling in front of its watcher, appearing to be locked in conversation with him. They were an odd pair, to be sure, but seeing the deformed Samaritan happily conversing with the prostitute brought a smile to Zoran’s face. As he observed them, he saw another figure just behind Arianna, who peeked out from behind her and noticed his presence.

"Mr. Hunter!" The little girl exclaimed as she ran towards him, her face alight with joy. He knelt down as she approached, letting her envelop him in a hug.

"Hello, little one." He warmly greeted her as he returned her embrace. "You settling in alright?" He asked her as he pulled away, his hands on her shoulders as he looked at the orphaned girl.

"Yes, I'm okay. The man in red was terribly kind to let me stay here." She answered, albeit with a hint of sadness. Not that it should've come of any surprise to him.

With both of her parents now dead and her older sister missing, she had been left alone in her family home, with no means of defending herself. Not wanting to leave her for dead, Zoran had offered to escort her to the nearest safe-haven, carrying her on his back as he made his way towards Oedon Chapel. As they ventured through the area where her parents had met their gruesome end, he had asked her to close her eyes, a demand she must not have followed in full, as she had tears in her eyes when he set her down in the lower level of the Chapel. Seeing there was no use in hiding the truth from her, he gave her the red jeweled brooch her mother had carried; comforting her as she mourned the loss of her family.

"I wish mum and dad were here, Mr. Hunter. They...really would've liked this place." She said with a sniffle, Zoran's heart sinking as he observed the heart-wrenching sight before him. No one deserved to experience such pain, especially at so young an age. The least he could do was ensure that she survived the night. As it was, he owed her father a debt.

"You know I'll miss them, too. I'm really sorry I wasn't able to save them." He apologized to the girl.

"You don't need to be. It wasn't your fault." She told him, managing to compose herself if even a little. Whether she knew or not that Zoran had been the one who killed her father, he wasn't sure; but she had more then enough weight on her shoulders as is.

"Once this is over, we'll make sure that you'll find a new home. I promise." He swore to her, with the little girl looking up at him with a sparkle in her eyes.

"Can I stay with you, Mr. Hunter?" She asked, the hunter taken aback by the question.

"I would love to, but...I don't exactly have a foothold in this town, see?" He explained to her in as simple a way he could, which she seemed to understand regardless.

"Oh. Oh, okay. But, you'll still be here, right?" She questioned, seemingly worried he was leaving.

"Of course. I'm not going anywhere." He assured her.

The woman of the night cleared her throat, causing both the hunter and the girl to look in her direction. She had been patiently waiting for them to conclude their conversation. standing by the side with her arms crossed as she smiled at them.

"Oh, I almost forgot. Mr. Hunter, this is Mrs. Arianna. She's been..." She started to introduce the woman to him before Arianna cut her off.

"It's alright, dear. We've already been introduced. Just wait for me while I have a quick chat with our friend here. I'll be back with you in just a moment, okay?" She told the girl, showing considerable gentleness with her.

"Okay. I'm sorry to have kept you waiting." She said with a nod of her head as she went off to the opposite end of the chapel.

Zoran rose to his feet as the new arrival approached him, who softly smiled as she watched the girl walk away.

“Well, hello again. You weren’t lying. This is a safe place.” She warmly greeted him, stopping just a few steps in front of him.

"Already making connections, I see?" He humorously asked her, noting her apparent fondness for the girl.

"Oh, she came to me, believe it or not. She was still rather scared of the one in red and the others weren't paying her much attention, so I figured I'd give her some company. Not that I'm complaining, that is. She's a good kid." Arianna explained, sighing as she observed her attempting to strike up a conversation with Adella, who seemed unsure on how to approach the situation.

“So, the whole towns turned, has it?” She observed, gazing over at the other residents as Zoran turned along with her. “Quite a big family now, aren’t we? Though, I’m afraid I seem to be the black sheep…” She was rather blunt in her statement, causing the hunter to softly chuckle.

“Guess that makes two of us.” He said, the Lady of the Night smiling in response.

“Thank you, again. I really do owe you a debt.” She softly expressed.

“You ought to be thanking him.” He lightly pointed his head in the direction of the Samaritan. “This is his Chapel. I was just the messenger.” He stated, not wanting to get sole credit for this undertaking.

“Oh, don’t you worry. I made sure to express my gratitude for his hospitality. Few would be willing to take others in during so perilous a night, especially without asking for anything in return.” She assured him, no insincerity present in her words. She continued.

“Still, I’d like to tender my thanks, but…I haven’t much to offer, as you can probably tell.” Zoran found himself flustered, as well as being grateful that his shocked expression was hidden from the woman’s eyes. When he looked away from her in embarrassment, the escort lightly laughed, clearly amused by his reaction.

“You’re not from around here, are you dear?” She queried, with the hunter finding himself puzzled by her question.

“What gave me away?” He rebounded, trying to recover from his apparent gaffe.

“What you’re thinking off doesn’t exactly sell in this town anymore, darling. From what I understand, once you get the Church’s fancy blood in your system, the only thing you want is more. So, in order to get by, I had to…change the nature of my services.” She explained, with Zoran realizing almost immediately what she went.

“I see, then. Forgive me, I must’ve misunderstood.” He calmly apologized, though Arianna softly smiled soon after.

“Off course, if you’re interested…” She began, but Zoran interjected before she got the wrong idea.

“No…no, that won’t be necessary. Just don’t go back out there and you can consider us even.” He dismissed, with the escort once again chuckling at his discomfort.

“Very well. But, if you have a change of heart, the offer still stands.” She said to him before moving towards the set of stairs that led to where the other refugees were located.

“We are still talking about your blood, right?” He asked her as she walked away, with his bold remark seemingly taking her by surprise.

“Whatever suits your fancy, dear. Now if you’ll excuse me, I’m going to have a word with the nun.” She said in reply.

With that bizarre exchange finally concluded, Zoran approached the host of the Chapel, who appeared much more joyful then when they last spoke. He had come dangerously close to killing the figure in front of him when he first arrived here, though he strangely did not react even when he brandished his axe. After that, he decided to listen to what he had to say and seeing no reason to doubt his words, complied with his request, hopeful as he was that the few survivors who remain would be safe here.

“Ahh, kind hunter. Welcome back. Please, make yourself at home.” The Samaritan proclaimed, pure joy in his voice.

“Oh, I won’t be staying long. Just wanted to see how the new arrivals are settling in. I hope they haven’t given you too much trouble.” Zoran said, with the Dweller nervously laughing in response.

“Well, they don’t offer me much in terms of conversation, that’s for certain. Except for that one lady you sent over, that is. She doesn’t mince words, but she’s a kind one. I can tell.” Zoran looked over to see Arianna attempting to speak with Adella, who did not seem fond of the prospect.

“Well, what are we outsiders to do?” He stated with a slight shrug, looking down at the disfigured man with a smile. “You seem quite cheerful, considering.” He noted.

“Well, you see… I sort of hoped that, my asking you, turned out to, you know, help 'em out in the end… I've never been of any use to anyone, you see… Just, happy about it, is all.” He explained, with Zoran softly smiling behind his mask.

“I don’t suppose there’s anyone out there worth saving anymore, but you did all ya could. This here Chapels a haven for so many now, thanks to you.” The Samaritan expressed.

“Come now, don’t sell yourself short. This is your domain, not mine.” The hunter reminded him, though he knew that the Dweller meant what he said.

“Maybe so, but we both know those folks would’ve told me off faster than they could blink. But you…you went out of your way to point them in the direction of this place, even though most of ‘em want nothing to do with ya. Amazing, really. Not’ cause you're a hunter, but because you're you.”

Zoran found himself at a loss for words. It’s been long since he’d had such kind words expressed about him, even before he came to Yharnam. Just as he was about to speak again, the Dweller let out a light sigh.

“Makes me think, once dawn breaks, maybe I can just, you know, start over. Makes it easier to bear all o'this, you see?" He remarked, what appeared to be a genuine smile appearing on his face.

“Wouldn’t that be the dream.” Zoran finally spoke, before turning towards the lantern in the center of the Chapel.

“If you please, kind hunter… When the night of the hunt passes, s'pose, we could be friends, maybe?” The Samaritan’s sudden request stopped him in his tracks, the hunter turning around to look at the dweller in surprise.

“Now, I know I hardly deserve it, but… Give it a thought, if you wouldn't mind, o'course.” After a brief silence, Zoran moved back to where the Dweller rested and knelt down in front of him.

“I’d be happy to.”

The Dweller’s face suddenly contorted in surprise, as if he couldn’t believe what he’d just heard.

“Wh…what?” He sputtered.

“Come to think of it, I don’t believe we’ve been formally introduced. Do you have a name?” Zoran inquired, with the Dweller seemingly scrambling for an answer.

“I, I… I may’ve once, but…I’m afraid it’s lost to me now.” He admitted, still appearing surprised that this conversation was happening at all. The hunter looked idly off to the side, slightly saddened by this revelation.

“Well then, I’m sure we’ll think of something. As for me, my name is Zoran. Pleasure to meet you.” He said as he extended his hand. Despite his apparent blindness, the Dweller seemed to recognize the gesture, slowly extending his own malformed hand and tightly gripping the hunter’s arm, nervously laughing all the while.

“Don’t overdo it, now.” Zoran politely warned, trying his hardest to hide the discomfort he felt from the force of his grip.

“Oh, I’m sorry.” The Dweller said as he loosened his grip. “I’m just… overjoyed, really. That you'd even give me the time o'day! You’ve really made life easier. Thank you." He expressed, with Zoran bowing his head in respect.

“Pleasure was all mine.”

With that, he rose to his feet and once again made his way towards the lamp, casting a glance to the right corner of the chapel to find Gascoigne's daughter sitting beside Adella on the pillar and offering her hand to the Nun, who hesitantly accepted it as Arianna seemed to giggle at the sight before her, the two elderly Yharnamites looking on in bewilderment as this happened. Zoran then knelt down before the lantern and held out his hand, fading back into the Dream with a wide smile on his face.

…..

Quite some time later, the hunter stood in the middle of a vast empty hall, having just slain an enormous beast that guarded a chalice that would grant him passage to the next set of labyrinths. He had managed to make a hefty amount of progress, finally finding his way through the Forbidden Woods and slaying the guardians that awaited him at the end. He had also found another survivor to send back to Oedon Chapel, running into him in a dimly lit cabin in the middle of the forest, seemingly fleeing from one of the beasts plaguing the area.

Zoran suddenly remembered that he had not visited the haven in a while and was curious to see if the man had made it there in one piece, considering how far he had to travel to get there. Having spent the last several hours making his way through this labyrinth, he figured it was about time for a well-deserved rest. Focusing his thoughts on the Hunter’s Dream, he went through the usual motions and soon found himself awakening within the Chapel, met with the pleasant scent of it’s beast-repelling incense…

And the stench of blood.

The hunter froze in shock at the sight before him, his eyes widening in horror. Adella’s body lay in a heap close to the pillar she had claimed, her neck bent at an unnatural angle with a horrified expression etched on her face; the weapon he had given her was destroyed, it's pieces scattered across the floor. Everyone else was nowhere to be found, but Zoran could see Arriana’s shoes lying by the pillar where the blood saint had sat, leaving him to praying that it meant she and the girl had managed to escape the carnage. That only left…

“Kind…hunter…” A weak voice called out behind him, sending a chill down the hunter’s spine. He slowly turned around, his throat constricting as he laid eyes on the source.

The Dweller lay sprawled out among several destroyed pots, his tattered robes stained with blood as he struggled to draw breath. Zoran ran towards him, kneeling down and desperately holding up his hand.

“Gods above, what happened?!” He hastily questioned, panic gripping him.

“He…he came in from the outside. They’re dead…savaged and murdered every one! A beast, here… why…?” The Dweller feebly questioned, yet even as he said those words, everything seemed to click into place. The beggar was also nowhere to be found.

“Be still. The woman and the girl. Where are they? If they ran off, they may yet be alive. I can still save them.” The hunter tried to give his friend some semblance of hope, who appeared to be on the verge of tears as he tightened his hold on his hand.

“I only wanted to help… Just once in my life… They told me it would never work… My mum always told me, everybody kept telling me… I should've known, I should've…” The dweller’s breathing grew weaker as he attempted to string the words together, guilt hanging over every word.

“No, don’t say that. You did help these people, more then you can imagine. Please, just hold on-I’ll find the one who did this and make them pay.” Zoran practically pleaded with the Dweller, holding back the tears that welled in his eyes as he realized he was partly responsible for his predicament.

“Gods, please, I'm sorry, so sorry…" He begged for forgiveness, his voice growing faint. Very soon, his movements ceased and his grip on the hunter’s hands loosened.

Zoran tightened his hold on the deceased Dweller’s hand, his tears finally escaping from their confines as his heart seemed to sink into his stomach. He had trusted him, given him a place to retreat from the terror of the outside without asking anything in return, except for a simple request to inform any remaining survivors of his safe haven. And now, he was just another victim, but unlike the others, he had died completely unseen, without so much as a name.

“Stay back, you monster!!” The hunter was snapped from his mourning by a loud scream, which seemed to come from the direction of the staircase of the Grand Cathedral. Releasing the dwellers hand, he ran out the leftward exit, brandishing his axe and pistol in preparation. Outside, he saw no sign of Arianna nor the beggar, but then he heard another cry coming from further up the staircase, causing him to run towards it.

The first thing he saw was Arianna's body lying on the top steps, her blood flowing down the stairs as a torch lay nearby. But as he neared the top, he could make out a pair of voices. And what he heard made his blood boil.

“Oh-hoh, quite a feisty pair of wenches, weren’t they? Such a shame, too. There was something very special about that one.” The beggar said, holding a serrated dagger in one of his hands as he stalked towards the horrified little girl, who was crawling away from him with tears in her eyes.

“Leave me alone, you evil...…!” The girl defiantly exclaimed, before being cut off when the man clasped her mouth shut with his hand and lifted her up with minimal effort, slamming her into the closed gate behind her; the orphan looking back with unbridled terror in her eyes as she struggled to escape his grip.

“Hmmm. I’m not exactly the picky sort, but I've never been very fond of children. Most of the time they're just not worth the effort.” He noted while hovering the blade just in front of her stomach. “Still, you know what they say. The more, the merrier...”

The beggar froze when he heard the sound of a gun cocking, turning around to find the hunter pointing his flintlock pistol at him, barely paying any attention to the bleeding stab wound on his shoulder nor his charred skin.

“Ah, hello again.” He greeted in mock politeness, not showing an ounce of fear. The girl muffled something that was obscured by the beggar’s hand, as if she were trying to warn him. But Zoran didn’t pay any attention to it, glaring at the bone-thin man with complete disdain.

“Put. Her. Down.” He ordered, his voice dripping with venom. The beggar’s only response was to grin at him in defiance.

“Very poor choice of words, mate.”

Zoran was unable to react in time as the beggar plunged the dagger into the girl’s stomach, her cry being muffled by his hand. The hunter let a shot fly, striking the murderer in the back and causing him to loosen his grip on both the girl and the knife; running up to him and swinging the axe with all his might, leaving a deep gash on his side as the beggar cried out in pain. The murderer caught Zoran by surprise by flinging his head back and striking the hunter in the face, loosening his grip on his weapon as he stumbled back from the blow. He then elbowed him the stomach and followed up with an uppercut that sent him flying back, tumbling down a few steps and leaving him short of breath.

The beggar rushed down the steps towards him just as he rose to his feet, but this time Zoran was prepared; blocking his incoming strike with his forearm and landing three consecutive blows to his stomach. The hunter then thrust both of his hands forward, staggering his opponent before bringing down both fists over his head and spinning around with all the strength he could muster, striking the beggar across the face and knocking him to the ground. Not wanting to waste anymore time, he ran back up the stairs and to the little girls’s side, preparing one of his vials in order to safe her.

But she did not even stir as he knelt down beside her, looking up at the blackened sky with no light in her eyes. Not wanting to believe it, Zoran moved in to check for a pulse, holding on to a faint hope that she was simply in shock. But there was no sign of life as he placed his fingers on her neck.

"No. No, no, wake up. Please, wake up..." He softly pleaded as he attempted to shake her awake, despite knowing it was pointless.

She was gone. They all were.

“I really do owe you a terrible lot. Finding me such a nice place to live… Oh-hoh… This is simply a smashing place.” The beggar mockingly thanked him as he made his way up the steps, clenching his jaw and lightly laughing after he had concluded.

Zoran’s hand began to shake, every semblance of his being seething with hatred. Plucking his axe of the ground, he spun around and rushed towards the beggar, thrusting the tip forward and sending him flying back. The enraged hunter then launched himself forward as he ran and attempted to bring his axe down on the beggar, who rolled out of the way as he landed. Not ready to let him get away, he slammed into the murderer with all his might and pinned him to a nearby wall. As his target attempted to push him back, he pulled back a fist and punched him in the face, staggering the beggar. Tossing his axe aside and gripping him by the throat, he brought his clenched fist down on his face again and again, not letting up for a second as his nose shattered beneath his blows. Yet through it all, he just kept on smiling.

“You sniveling bastard!! I’m going to string you up like the filthy beast you are!!” Zoran cried out in rage as he continued to beat the beggar. As he brought down his fist for yet another blow, the man stopped the blow with his palm, showing a surprising amount of strength for his appearance.

“A beast, am I?” Before Zoran could react, the man grabbed him by the neck and threw him away, his arms flailing as he sailed through the air. He eventually crashed into a downtrodden carriage, pain enveloping his entire body as he lay sprawled across the ground. He barely managed to pull out a blood vial and plunge it into his thigh to bring some relief from his injuries, his blurry vision adjusting to find the beggar descending the steps.

“Oh, you are a sick puppy! You drink the blood of half the town, and now this?!” The man’s words seemed to be much more spiteful then before, stumbling down the last few steps and falling to his knees as his body began to writhe in pain. “And you call me a beast?” He yelled out as his feeble body started to transform into a creature more then three times his original size, his fur crackling with sparks of electricity.

“_You hunters have got far more blood on your hands!”_

Zoran weakly rose to his feet just as the beast rushed towards him with an unexpected burst of speed, it’s enormous arm sailing past him and shattering the carriage behind him. Not letting up, he attempted to strike the hunter with his claws two more times and bringing both of his fists down in front of him, forcing Zoran back. Clearly outmatched in terms of raw power, the hunter rushed to reclaim his dropped weapon and turned to find the creature chasing after him, mindlessly swing in front of him with an seemingly pained yell.

Going on the offensive, the hunter cleaved into the beast’s arm with his axe, though this only seemed to enrage him further. Slamming its free hand into the ground, it summoned a lingering bolt of lightning seemingly from thin air, catching Zoran off guard and sending him flying into the air. Landing on the ground with a crash, he rolled off to the side as his attacker attempted to crush him with his massive fists, each strike leaving a small crater in the ground.

“_Die! Die, Die! Hunters are killers, nothing less!_” The enraged beast yelled out as their battle grew more intense. “_And you call me a beast? A beast?! What would you know?! I didn’t ask for this!!”_ Zoran blocked out his guttural voice, having finally managed to gain the upper hand, nimbly evading his careless attacks and whittling down his strength bit by bit. He wasn’t going to let him escape his punishment.

The two combatants found themselves on opposite ends of the arena, the beast roaring at him before charging at him yet again. Fully prepared for the attack, Zoran ducked underneath the attack and swung his transformed axe in an arch, embedding it in the beast’s leg. As he reacted to the pain, the hunter pulled the axe back and swung it once more, severing his leg with a yell. As the transformed beggar collapsed the ground, Zoran swiftly jumped on his thrashing body and before it could shake him off, brought his axe down on his cranium.

But he wasn’t done yet. Raising his axe overhead, he brought it down on the beast’s head again and again, not stopping until he was completely exhausted. Despite his efforts, the transformed beggar continued to hold onto life, weakly gasping for air even as the top half of its head was left as an unrecognizable mess.

_“Rancid beasts…every last…one of us…”_ Those were the last words the beggar spoke before he finally perished, his blood red eyes seemingly staring into Zoran’s very soul.

When he was sure he was dead, the hunter tumbled of its corpse and landed on the ground in exhaustion, the unyielding nature of their battle not even giving him a chance to heal his wounds. After resting on the ground for an untold amount of time, he weakly began to climb the staircase, the menial task appearing nigh insurmountable after his ordeal. He weakly stumbled over to the girl’s lifeless body, dropping to his knees and gently taking her in his arms as his hands shook. Looking at the blade still embedded in her stomach, he came to a startling realization.

It was Adella’s.

He had remembered that the blood saint had appeared to have grown fond of the girl as well, having realized that her father had once been a hunter of the Church. Her and Arianna had taken it upon themselves to look after the girl, though Adella had obviously believed the escort to be a bad influence on her. At least, originally.

He had not taken either of them up on their offering of blood, which he hypothesized to be the source of the animosity the Blood Saint displayed towards Arianna. The few times he had visited the Chapel after her arrival, he noticed that the two women had grown unexpectedly close, freely conversing as Gascoigne's daughter rested against them. The old man had even made an offhanded comment about how the two would sometimes sneak off to the lower levels of the Chapel together, but wasn’t entirely sure what they did there; although he had his suspicions.

The incense must've repelled the invader for some time, leaving him to scout out the Chapel from the outside and pick off it's residents one by one. The two elderly Yharnamites were his first victims, leaving the building and being ambushed by the beggar before being taken away. Adella had gone looking for them no doubt, managing to escape before she ended up like them and rushing back to the Chapel to warn the others, at which point the beggar invaded the haven by force. As this happened, Adella ordered Arianna to take the girl and to attempt to escape by rushing towards the Grand Cathedral, not knowing that the gate had been shut by the beggar to prevent anyone escaping his clutches. In desperation, the Blood Saint had attempted to protect them, barely slowing him down before being overpowered; not knowing that her efforts had been in vain.

Zoran held the deceased girl in his arms as he broke down in tears, rocking back and forth as he was hit with the reality of his situation. Without him, this monster would not have found this place. And everyone within would still be alive.

They had been given the chance to wait out the night in safety, to see the morning sun and try to start their lives anew. And now that morning would never come.

And it was all his fault.

…..

Zoran sat with his eyes set to the floor, trying his hardest to contain himself. No matter how hard he tried to wipe them from his memory, the images from that gruesome night seemed to be forever etched in his mind. He had been correct in his thoughts, finding the mangled bodies of the two missing Yharnamites just in front of the temple leading to Old Yharnam, along with several other infected victims. He had taken the time to arrange the victims of the massacre side by side in the middle of the Chapel, covering their faces with pieces of cloth; all the while, he had to contend with the crushing silence that blanketed the supposed safe-haven. Once his work was finally finished, he had sunk to his knees, completely breaking down for the first time that night.

After he recovered some semblance of control, he set the body of the beast that carried out the massacre ablaze, leaving his body to burn as he retreated to the Hunter’s Dream. He had not returned there since, instead taking his anger out on the beasts that seemed to infest every inch of Yharnam. Yet with every monster he felled, he could not escape the haunting words that the murderer had spouted during their battle, lingering in the back of his mind like an ever-present phantom. Out of all the horrible things he had witnessed during his time as a hunter, that single event hung over him whenever he went. He just couldn’t seem to escape it.

“I see, then. You feel like you are culpable for what happened that night, don’t you?” Zoran heard Maria’s question loud and clear, but he could not bring himself to talk about it anymore.

She had suggested that he attempt to transcribe what had happened to her, something he had been hesitant to do at first, but eventually accepted after she reassured him she would not force him to discuss it in detail.

“Zoran? Can you hear me?” She asked, notable concern in her voice. He had not said a word for several minutes, attempting to hide his eyes from her beneath the brims of his hat. But throughout the meeting, one thought solidified itself in his mind.

“I killed them…” He quietly uttered, which Maria seemed to hear.

“You know that’s not true.” She stated, trying to dispel this notion from him.

“He found out about the Chapel because of me. If I hadn’t told him, he wouldn’t have…they would all still be…” He attempted to convey, but words seemed to fail him as his guilty conscience seemed to take over.

“You’re letting him get to you. He merely said those things to try and divert the blame away from himself. It was nothing but an excuse.” She said, though her statement had little bearing on how Zoran felt at that moment.

“That doesn’t matter! If I had just gotten there sooner, I could’ve stopped it. And instead I condemned them to an entirely preventable death, because I was fiddling around while Rome burned!” He expressed with more aggression then he intended, though Maria’s calm demeanor did not change because of it.

“You can’t be everywhere at once.” She reminded him, her voice soft and reassuring.

“I didn’t need to be. If I had just known…if I…” He found himself breaking down again, images of the people that he had supposedly saved flashing through his mind.

As he dissolved into tears, Maria rose from her chair and took a seat next to him on the stairwell, no doubt there to try and comfort him. After ignoring her proximity for a few seconds, Zoran turned to her and let her take him in her arms, holding onto her as he wept.

“I should’ve protected them, Maria. They’re all dead because of me!” He lamented, with his host softly hushing him in response.

“It’s alright. Just let it go.” She quietly said to him as she softly traced her hand along his back.

This embrace continued for quite some time, until Zoran’s crying eventually died down. Yet even after it had ceased, he kept holding on to her. This wasn’t the first time she had consoled him after they had discussed sensitive subjects from his past and each time, she had shown a great deal of patience with him. As strange as it was, it brought a feeling of comfort and security whenever she was close to him.

She finally released him not long after, both of her hands remaining on his shoulders as she looked back at him with a warm smile. He still remembered a time when he thought the kindness she had supposedly shown to her patients to have been insincere, nothing more then a façade to further her own ulterior motives. She was still no saint by any means, but her actions with him as of late had completely shattered his perception of her. She had been attentive, understanding, tender even.

Just like her.

“Doesn’t get any easier, does it?” She softly asked him.

“No. No, it doesn’t” He admitted, his voice slightly hoarse.

“I get it, you know. There was a time when I desired nothing more then to turn back time and undo my past mistakes, but I learned very quickly that pondering what could’ve been only makes things worse.” As she spoke, Zoran found himself unsure of what she wanted him to take away from her words.

“I left a child to die that night. Pretending it didn’t happen won’t just make it go away.” He said somewhat passively.

“I’m not asking you to forget it. I’m asking you to accept it. Move past it. And to make sure a similar tragedy never happens again.” She explained. Zoran saw the value of what she said, but it also evoked a slight frustration considering who it was coming from.

“Wasn’t that philosophy what lead you to where you are now?” He questioned, Maria appearing slightly taken aback by his question.

“But you see, that’s just it. I didn’t accept my mistakes, I fled from them.” She admitted, though these did little to quell his frustration.

“Does this lecture have a point?” He demanded, his patience with Maria’s incessant vagueness beginning to test his patience.

“The point, Zoran, is that you shouldn’t hide from what you have done, all while letting the marks of the past weigh down on your soul. Acknowledge your sins and use them as a means to better yourself, instead of letting yourself be defined by them.”

Zoran lowered his head, finding himself unable to maintain eye contact with her.

“It’s…it’s far too late for me. There’s simply too much blood on my hands.” After he said this, Maria moved one of her hands beneath his chin and gently lifted his head so he was looking at her again.

“I don’t believe that.” She softly stated.

Zoran found himself incapable of saying anything else as he looked back at Maria, surprised that she seemed to have that much faith in him. Her hand soon found its way to his cheek, her gloved fingers running along his leather mask as she warmly smiled at him.

“It’s never too late…” She practically whispered to him as her hand trailed further up his face.

Zoran hand shot upwards and grabbed Maria’s wrist just as he realized what she was doing, causing her to cease her efforts. She looked back at him in surprise, with the hunter glaring at her in return. 

“What was it you said about my "wild curiosity"?” He questioned her with a hint of displeasure.

“Zoran, I…” She started, no doubt trying to apologize before he cut her off.

“Just…don’t.” He said as he released her wrist and rose to his feet, with Maria looking up at him in what he assumed was concern. He understood what she was trying to do, but he just wasn’t prepared to let it happen. He couldn't let his guard down like this, not again. Especially not under these circumstances.

“I…I have to go. There are matters I must attend to.” He hastily excused himself, moving to leave the clocktower. After a few moments, Maria stood up as well and tried to get his attention.

“Zoran, wait. I didn’t mean to…” She lightly called to him in what must’ve been an attempt to apologize, which was silenced as soon as he turned towards her.

“We’ve all done things we regret, haven’t we Maria? Sometimes being sorry just isn’t enough.”

With that, he continued his march; with Maria making no further effort to stop him from leaving, which was probably for the best. Approaching the lamp outside her clocktower, he focused his thoughts on the Hunter’s Dream, with no particular destination in mind beyond that.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Author's Notes: So here's that super important event that effected the main character more profoundly then anything else in his journey that I didn't include in the original for some God-forsaken reason. Also, I made the conscientious decision to have Zoran actually recognize that sending a child out on their own in the middle of a hunt to be a horrible idea and instead to have him bring her to Oedon Chapel, which I now realize makes more sense for his character. 
> 
> The final new chapter will be a lot more lighthearted then this one though, but I'm going to have to make more then a few edits to the original chapters in order to fit the sequence of events I'm transcribing now. I aim to release the updated chapters alongside the final new one, so it may take me a little while until it's all finished. So be on the lookout for that.
> 
> Merry Christmas to all those celebrating and happy New Year to all!


	6. Und von dem grünen Baume fiel Kron und Blüte ab.

Lady Maria sat in her chair in Astral Clocktower, reading through one the latest books the hunter had brought her. But despite her best efforts to take her mind off it, she was unable to focus on the contents of the pages. Instead, she found herself thinking about the whereabouts of a certain hunter.

The last time they saw each-other, he had unexpectedly cut their meeting short, retreating to the Hunter’s Dream with little fanfare. It was clear to her that the events of that night still weighed down heavily on him and would most likely haunt him until the end of his days; as would the guilt that no doubt gnawed away at his spirit.

Seeing him revert back to the tortured state he had been in during their first session had disheartened her, especially after he had begun showing some traces of recovery. He was visibly more composed, no longer fidgeting with his hands and speaking with much more confidence, even letting her sit by his side in some instances, exhibiting at least some semblance of comfort around her. He seemed to have grown more humorous as well, though she was unsure if this was a part of his natural self or a coping mechanism; not that it was an unwelcome change by any means.

All this apparent progress had prompted her to try and approach what she believed to be the event that had impacted him the most, what had set him down this self-destructive path. But even she wasn’t prepared for what he had described. Seeing the people he had set out to save brutally murdered, watching one of his few friends and a child he had sworn to protect dying right in front of him; all because of a single, seemingly harmless decision.

Despite his undying nature, Maria found herself worried about him. She understood that he needed some time to himself, but she still couldn’t help but feel regret to how she had conducted herself near the end of their last encounter. She hypothesized that he hid his face behind a mask because he wanted to hide his pain from the world, be it out of a desire to appear in control or out of shame, and she thought that convincing him to take it off would help him accept the unfortunate parts of his past. But she couldn’t deny that she was curious to know what he really looked like, behind the veil he cast around himself.

She acknowledged the moment he left that she had broken his trust, letting her own morbid curiosity take advantage of him in a moment of weakness. He had not returned for several days, if not a whole week; leaving her questioning if he was to return at all. Or if he had gone and done something completely reck…

“Is this a bad time?”

She looked up from her reading to find Zoran slowly limping towards her, using a cane to support himself. His attire was charred and stained with dried blood; a vile stench emanating from him as a result. But despite all this, his face was still covered by the mask.

“Gods, Zoran.” She frantically said as she set down her book and rose from her seat, swiftly moving towards the injured hunter.

“I’m afraid I’ve made a bit of a blunder.” He acknowledged, still limping. “I was hoping…” He was cut of by an exclamation of pain, losing his hold on the cane and falling forward, with Maria just managing to catch him.

“Easy now.” She gently said as she pulled him up and draped his arm over her shoulders, helping him towards her chair. “What happened?” She questioned as she slowly guided his battered body towards the chair.

“I got careless. I let my guard down for a split second and before I knew it, I was on fire. The next thing I knew, a canine the size of a carriage collided with me at full force and then, everything went dark.” He explained as she seemed to find the source of his injury. And she believed she knew what had caused it.

“And where exactly did you find this creature?” She asked, dubious that he had come into contact with such a beast.

“Ever heard of the cursed land of Loran?” He asked in return, causing her to look up at him in shock.

“What on Earth were you doing down there?!” She demanded in exasperation, failing to see any reason for him to go that deep into the Tombs of the Gods.

“Truth be told, I haven’t the faintest idea. At this point, I just want to see what’s at the end of those blasted dungeons and whatever it is, I somehow know it’s not going to be worth the effort.” He said in response, seeming rather calm considering his current condition. She decided not to press him further, sighing as she turned her attention to his wounded leg.

“Where do you feel the pain?” She calmly asked.

“Right leg. Below the knee.” As she prepared to check the location for an open wound, she realized that the decorative boots he wore as a part of his attire prevented her from inspecting it properly.

“I’m going to have to remove this. Apologies in advance.” She told him, swiftly undoing the buckle and gently beginning to take off the boot. As she did this, Zoran winced in pain, gripping the handles of her chair until she finally set it off the side.

She then proceeded to grab the dagger half of her Rakuyo and gently cut off the part of his trousers below where he said the pain was, seeing that there was no visible wound.

“Good news is that there are no open wounds. Unfortunately, that means the bone must be fractured. A few pints of healing blood should be able to repair it.” As she diagnosed his condition, he shifted uncomfortably in his seat.

“See, that would’ve been reassuring. If I had any on me, that is…” She looked up at him in bewilderment, not believing what she just heard.

“You mean you ran out?” She questioned him.

“There was a slight-complication in the labyrinth I fought that watchdog in. The moment I entered, it was as if a curse was placed upon me, seeping away at my strength to the point where everything I encountered seemed to demolish me in just a few hits. I… ended up using up all of the ones I had just trying to survive.” He explained, seeming embarrassed to be having this conversation at all.

“So how come your resurrection didn’t fix it?” She continued her questioning.

“The process is…imperfect, shall we say. It seals flesh-wounds well enough, but it doesn’t do so well with broken bones.” He revealed, though she still didn’t understand why he had chosen to come here.

“And pray tell, why did you choose to come here?” She exclaimed in mild frustration.

“I was hoping you would help me find a remedy.” He revealed, causing her to scoff at the idea.

“Zoran, I was a caretaker, not a doctor. This is nowhere near my specialty.” She explained, with the hunter looking down at her in mild surprise.

“Oh. Well, in that case, do you think you can use that blade on me one more time? Save me the trouble of walking down the stairs, if nothing else?” He humorously requested, with Maria softly sighing in response, although a small smile did form on her lips.

“As tempting of an idea as that sounds, I don’t think it will be necessary. I have an idea.” She stood up and picked up the dagger of her Rakuyo once again, moving towards the small table beside the chair. Before she set to work, she noticed a photo frame lying face-down on the table; picking it up to reveal its contents.

It was an old photo of her and her compatriots, that was taken just outside of the Workshop. She looked on with a sense of longing, seeing her past self standing proudly and happily amongst people she had called her friends. Her family.

“Care to fill me in on what this idea of yours is?” He asked, snapping Maria back to reality.

“Just don’t move, alright? You’ll see.” She said in reply as she placed the photo into her jacket. Kneeling down before the table, she picked up the dagger portion of her Rakuyo and set about cutting off two of its legs. In short order, she picked up the legs and moved back to where Zoran was sitting, though she quickly realized that she didn’t have a necessary component to make her idea work.

“Do you have any cloth? Bandages, perhaps?” She asked.

“I do, but they’re rather unsanitary.” He answered, still appearing puzzled by what she planned to do.

“They’ll have to do. Give them to me.” Zoran complied, reaching into his bag and pulling out a cluster of bloodstained bandages, handing them to Maria. Placing them on the ground, she moved the two pieces of wood on either side of his leg. “Now hold them in place.” She ordered, with the hunter following along after a brief pause. She then set to work wrapping the bandages around his leg, securing the stilt in place as best as she could.

“Listen, Maria. About our last meeting, I…” He broke the silence before Maria cut him off.

“There’s no need. If anything, I should be the one apologizing. I overstepped my bounds.” She said to him, not letting it breaking her concentration.

“I know you were only trying to help, but discussing what happened that night, it…” He started again, but this time she paused and looked up at him.

“It’s alright. I understand.” She told him, effectively silencing him. After finishing wrapping the final bandage, she took a moment to observe her handiwork before moving her hand to the lower level of his leg.

“Can you feel this?” She asked, making sure that she did not tie the knots to tightly that they blocked his circulation.

"Yes.” He responded.

“Good.” She said as she rose to her feet. “Remain here for the time being and try not to move. I’ll be back soon.” She ordered before she turned to leave, her mind set on a specific location.

“Do hurry back? Please?” He called out behind her as she walked towards the gates of the clocktower.

Maria made her way back into the Research Hall, who’s seemingly endless set of twisting walkways and revolving staircase was lit with an eerie green light emitted from nightmarish lamps. She scanned the outline of the facility, trying to remember which path led to where. Making her way down the stairs, she set her sights on the room where the lifts to the other floors of the building were located.

Entering the room, the first thing she saw was a pair of deceased patients lying on an operating table; various medical instruments embedded in their bodies. Doing her best to ignore the horrific sight, she approached a large hatch on the opposite end of the room. Kneeling down and trying to open it, she found herself incapable of doing so.

Locked. Why wouldn’t it be? She had instructed that all storage facilities were to remain as such to keep the patients from coming in and claiming any of the materials. And all members of staff were to carry a collection of keys that would grant them easy access.

A slight panic manifested when she did not find the keys in their usual spot in her inner coat pocket. She remembered then she had turned in her collection of keys to Laurence as a sign she wanted no further involvement in the experiments and furthermore, that there was now no way to open this hatch. Unless…

Maria remembered a certain incident when a patient had stolen the keys from his caretaker, the perpetrator of which was never caught. But it was possible that he was still here, somewhere.

Seeing no other option, she rode the lift to the upper floors, where she found several of her patients lying dead; slain by Zoran during his journey to the top, no doubt. She reluctantly patted each of them down in search of the keys, with every body she came across only serving as fuel for her guilt, realizing that all of them were here because of her.

Each of them was a blasphemous attempt to ascend beyond the primitive limitations of man, brought about by a group of overtly ambitious scholars and doctors playing God. And she was the one who guided them down that path, making them feel content in their madness even as their minds deteriorated to the point where they lashed out in anger against everyone around them. As more and more lost themselves, the threat of violence grew so severe that they were forced to assign a handful of the Church’s hunters to protect the staff from their seemingly random outbursts.

And through it all, they were in indescribable pain, leaving them with little choice but to euthanize them. Yet their numbers continued to grow and the process became so common that at least five patients were put down on any given day. A major motivator behind her taking her own life was that her death would finally force the Hall to be closed and for the patients to be freed. Little did she know that her action would end up prolonging their suffering even from beyond the grave.

They had placed their faith in her and this was what they had to show for it. But at least they were free now, as little comfort as that brought.

As her search continued, Maria couldn’t shake the feeling that she was somehow being watched, her gaze wandering around to see if her suspicion was warranted. As expected, nobody was there but her. Who else could possibly be bold enough to wander this far into the Nightmare?

Even after all of the bodies had been searched, there was still no sign of the keys, leaving her with no choice but to continue her search. Turning to the staircase behind her, she froze in her tracks as she saw that there were no railings on either side, with a single misstep risking her falling down several stories. Maria silently cursed the one who had concocted such an infernal idea. It was a bad enough to place this in an area where patients tended to roam freely, much less so high up in the facility.

So high up…

Maria’s knees slightly shook, her heartbeat growing faster as she looked up to where the staircase led. It was possible that he had managed to make his way up there, hiding among the rats and crows that infested the building. No, that would be ridiculous. Measures were put in place so no one would be able to ascend that far. Surely there was no need for this, to risk her life just so she could retrieve some keys. Just the thought of it was making her head spin…

She turned away and barged into a nearby room, drawing in a few heavy breaths in an attempt to calm herself down. Maria felt a newfound appreciation for her staff, who were much braver than she to make that climb every day in order to close the tower down for the night.

Gods, she hated heights…

“Plip…plop…plip…plop.”

She almost jumped out of her skin when she heard the uttering, looking down to see a bulging, white blob of flesh that had once been one of her patients. 

"Lady Maria, I'm a robin, will I ever curl up and become an egg?” Whether he knew if she was really there or not, she did not know, but she could not say anything in response. “What say you? Lady Maria, Lady Maria, say something! Anything…" He continued to demand, sounding more distressed by her silence with every word.

She chose to stay silent, not wanting to further his delusion. As morbid as it was, she found herself saddened that she could not end his suffering at that moment, his transformation having progressed to a point where he was now impervious to harm. Now the only thing he had left was that sound that her patients had described so vividly, the eternal sound of the churning ocean.

As she re-entered the lift, she jumped off halfway down and landed on the third floor, seeing as there was no other way to reach this part of the building. Such a nonsensical design…

She repeated the process from the previous location, until her search brought her to a slightly darkened room, where she found a lone, deceased patient with one half of his body hanging over the side. As she knelt down to inspect him, she almost immediately noticed him griping something.

“There.” She exclaimed as she tore the keys away from him, almost immediately regretting her haste. He had no doubt been beaten to near death by his fellow patients as they vied for possession of his prized collection. What had he planned to do with them, she wondered? Was he planning escape or simply to raid one of their storage rooms? In any case, it seemed like his plan never came to fruition.

The keys in hand, she made her way back to the hatch, swiftly unlocking it and raising it open. Descending down the ladder, she soon found herself in a familiar location. The first thing she saw was a desk with a wide array of books and jars stacked on top of it, with a small staircase leading down to a vast open room: a single operating table at it’s centre, with several shelves and a collection of chests on either side.

This had once been her study, where she would document the successes and failures of her experiments, as well as the general conduct of her patients and staff in order to report back to Laurence at a later date. It was also where she stayed for the first few months of her time here, before re-locating to the Clocktower in order to observe the progress of her most promising patients more directly, a decision that was cemented when one of the patients discovered its location and spread the word, leaving her unable to sleep as they gathered outside and above, trying to get her attention.

The only belongings she had taken with her had been the chair and table that now furnished the Clocktower, donating her bed to the patient dormitories and permitting her staff to make use of the facility and remaining writing materials in whatever way they saw fit. But as the number of patients grew ever larger, this room and much of the upper level had been refurnished and converted into storage facilities for the materials needed to accommodate them.

Maria quickly made her way to the shelves on the left side of the room, looking through a few of the cases until she found a stock of unused vials of healing blood. Sighing in relief, she picked out a pair and carefully tucked them into her jacket, before turning to leave.

But just as she was about to step onto the stairs, her attention was caught by a chest she had spotted out of the corner of her eye. She suddenly remembered a particular item she had left behind during her move, the fate of which she did not know. Could it possibly still be here? She moved towards it, opening it up to make sure her hunch was correct.

And it was.

Maria felt a rush of nostalgia as she observed her old hunter’s uniform, which had been assigned to her upon her arrival to the Workshop. The garb she wore now was donned much later into her career, when she had established a name for herself and finally became comfortable in sharing her Cainhurst roots with her compatriots. She had been unwilling to part with it for mainly sentimental reasons, even though she had outgrown it in just about every way. And out of a strange feeling it would be useful one day.

Choosing to put that aside for now, she climbed out off her former study and hurried back to her tower, having wasted enough time away as is. She practically ran through the gardens and soon found herself at the foot of the stairwell to her sanctuary. Yet as she began to climb, she could make out a faint sound coming from inside; which resembled a light melody. She froze as she tried to hear the sound more clearly, before another source of sound joined the fray. A slow, seemingly melancholic singing…

_"Ase chonguri k'ovtk'uatu na _  
_Sk'ando chkimi gachireba na_  
_Okh, nana didavoi, nana didavoi, nanina_  
  
_Chonguri si mu shegilebu na_  
_Vegi kadre gachireba na_  
  
_Dudi opi lari mapu na_  
_Sakme teshigini martu na_  
  
_Ubeduri chk'imi dursu na_  
_Irpel chk'ua chk'imda mursu na"_

The melody suddenly stopped and the light singing ceased, leaving Maria completely bewildered at what she had just heard. She was certain that had been Zoran’s voice, but the language he had used was completely incomprehensible to her, yet strangely familiar at the same time. Somehow, she had almost forgotten that he was not a native to Yharnam; an outsider who hailed from a faraway land. But from exactly where, she was still uncertain.

After standing still for a few more moments, she continued the rest of the way up the staircase, passing through the gates to see Zoran still reclining in her chair, looking up from the book she had left behind and swiftly placing an unknown item back into his bag.

“Well, you certainly took your time.” He said to her as she approached.

“Do forgive me. Had to make a small detour.” She responded as she pulled out one of the vials she had retrieved. “This is a much older strain then the one you use, so it will take a little while for it to take effect.” She explained as she stood by his side and prepared to inject the blood into his right leg, before he unexpectedly motioned for her to stop with his hand.

“Are you certain there’s no other way?” He asked, appearing hesitant to accept the process.

“It’s either this or not being able to walk for the next several weeks.” She warned him, causing him to sit in silence for a few moments before sighing in resignation.

“Very well.” He agreed, leaving her puzzled by his reluctance. She proceeded to gently press the vial into his leg, the hunter wincing in pain as the blood entered his system.

“Does it feel any different?” She inquired after giving him a little time to recuperate.

“Only one way to find out.” He responded, attempting to rise from his seat before Maria placed a firm hand on his shoulder to stop him.

“If I’m not mistaken, that haste is what got you in this bind in the first place. Best you stay here for the next little while.” She told him, not prepared to let him go just yet.

“And how long would that be, may I ask?” He demanded, appearing taken aback by her assertiveness.

“A few hours. At least long enough for the blood to fully take effect.” She answered, before continuing. “Unless of course, you’re eager to return to your hunt.” With that, Zoran’s willingness to argue vanished immediately.

"So it's just the two of us, then?" He asked in an insinuating tone.

"It would seem so." She said in acknowledgment. Her hand still on his shoulder, she traced a finger up and down a bit. "It's been a while, hasn't it?" 

"Yes, it has." He agreed. Though faint, Maria could just make out his expression shifting behind his mask. "Did you miss me?" She couldn't help but smile as she began to play along.

"How presumptuous of you." She replied, which only seemed to spur him on.

"Really? Because you're doing a poor job of convincing me otherwise." Maria briefly snickered at his comment.

"Oh, alright. Perhaps a little bit." She admitted with a sly smile.

"Then I'm sure you wouldn't mind continuing where we left off? I promise to make up for lost time." So it was a return to form he wanted, then? Very well.

“It would be most discourteous of me to deny a guest. Come along.”

She stood by his side as he slowly stood from his seat, taking his right arm over her shoulder and helping him over to the stairwell. After a short walk, she helped him down onto one of the lower steps, being cautious of letting him put pressure on his injured leg. Once he was securely seated, she turned to her chair.

“Maria, if I may be so bold.” He said, stopping her stride. “I was thinking that instead of the usual routine, I could-ask you a few things instead.”

She turned back towards him, flustered by his sudden initiative. “Oh. Well…what exactly did you have in mind?” She asked, slightly hesitant to accept his offer.

“That depends on what you’re willing to share. But I’m sure you have your fair share of stories to tell.” He explained, before continuing.

“Besides, why should these meetings be exclusively about me?”

Maria took a moment to consider his words, a slight concern lingering in her mind. She held a slight fear that this would open a door to a path where they would both regret; yet at the same time, she couldn’t deny that she was tempted by his proposition. What would be the harm in indulging him?

“I…I suppose I can appreciate a slight change of pace.” She finally answered, though she did not move from her spot for the next little while, unsure of what exactly he wanted her to do.

“Aren’t you going to have a seat?” He asked, beckoning to the space on his left. This had been the first time he had personally invited her to sit next to him, having only tolerated her proximity by her insistence for relatively short intervals. Though she briefly pondered as to what this meant for the nature of their relationship, she eventually complied with his request, her curiosity getting the better of her.

“So, what is it that’s piqued your interest?” She eventually queried, unsure of what to expect.

“How did you become a hunter?” He asked, though even this simple request caught her off-guard.

“That’s more a matter of “why” then how.” She warned, though that didn’t seem to dissuade him.

“Oh, that's of little concern to me. Feel free to take as long as you like. As it is, it’s not like I’m going anywhere for the next little while.” He responded, leaving it to her to begin her story.

“Well…”

….

Despite its prestigious reputation, Byrgenwerth did not live up to the exalted stories told of the discoveries that occurred there. Not that it really mattered. Maria was there for only one reason.

In the dead of night, the college was devoid of residents, its scholars having long ago retired to their quarters or returned to the various towns that surrounded the college. A perfect opportunity for Maria to fulfill the objective her Queen had given her.

Byrgenwerth had severed all ties with Cainhurst Castle after they had discovered the treachery of one of their scholars, forming a new group focused on the exploration of the perilous labyrinths laid out beneath Yharnam, which the Knights had originally undertaken on their behalf. But they had also left the aristocracy in the dark as to their progress with their study of the Old Blood, studies that Cainhurst had funded. It was Maria's duty to retrieve their latest breakthrough; a vial filled with the rejuvenating blood of what was called a "Blood Saint".

Donning the garb assigned to all Royal Guards, Maria was able to traverse the dimly lit building with little chance of detection. Opening a chest on the upper levels of the college, Maria claimed her prize. Grabbing a pair of the surprisingly light vials, she gently placed them in her bag and moved to make her escape. Though no one was present on the college grounds, Maria did not want to risk being caught of guard. Exiting through a side door on the bottom floor, she began to swiftly run in the direction of the forest that obstructed the building, confident in her escape.

"It is unlike the nobles of Cainhurst to send envoys without an official warning." A mysterious voice suddenly rang out behind her, stopping her dead in her tracks. Slowly turning around, she found nothing but a frail looking man, a crude blade sheathed on his back. The same man who had been by the side of Wilhelm’s representative on every expedition into the Tombs that she could remember.

And Maria knew better then to underestimate him.

"How did you find me?" She demanded, her helm obscuring her voice.

"It was clear to us that your Queen had no interest in leaving us to continue our work in peace. It would have been foolish to leave our most treasured place of learning undefended." The man replied, not showing an ounce of fear at her presence.

"If you value your life, leave. Queen Annalise merely wants what rightfully belongs to her." She attempted to reason with the man.

"Oh, I know. Once exposed to the blood, it becomes an obsession. But it seems Her Majesty has forgotten one thing. She may hold sway over the land of Yharnam." He moved then, drawing his blade faster then Maria could process. "But she has no authority here."

Maria then drew the blade that had been assigned to her upon her ascension to Annalise's court, eyeing the man with intense scrutiny.

"I am giving you one chance to depart. Leave me be and no harm will be done to you." She warned the stranger in front of her, though her voice quavered slightly due to his staggering display of speed.

"Hmmm, I had heard the knights of Cainhurst were a rather bombastic bunch. Most interesting." He said, not moving an inch.

Maria decided to make the first move, slashing at the stranger as fast she could. Much to her shock, he deflected her attack with minimal effort, causing her to follow up with several more swings of her sword, the man deflecting each and every one. Raising her weapon overhead, she brought it down with a yell and forced him to block it, though he managed to shift his weight enough to send her stumbling to the side. Immediately going into a defensive position, she waited for his counter attack, only to notice that no such attack came. Instead, he was simply standing there, looking over his shoulder at her with a sly smirk on his face.

"Impressive. Show me more." The manner in which the man said this enraged Maria. The bastard was toying with her. She knew it.

"This isn't a game. Turn around and face me!" The man didn't budge, which kindled her frustration further. "Look at me, damn you!" She demanded again, yet all this did was cause the stranger to chuckle.

"You would ignore a clear opening for the sake of your pride?" He questioned her, which caused her to tighten her grip on her weapon.

"I am no coward. I seek only to uphold the honor of Cainhurst." Clearly, the stranger was not convinced.

"Really now? Now tell me, oh valiant knight; is it truly honor you seek, or the glory that comes with it?" An impotent attempt to try and get her to doubt herself. If nothing else, the man was bold.

"Enough of this. I will tolerate your insolence no more!" 

Sheathing her sword and drawing it just as quickly, a trail of blood appeared in front of Maria that was intended to cut the man down. Much to her surprise, he seemed to dissolve into smoke, disappearing before her very eyes. The shock from his display of blinding speed quickly turned to fear when his blade sailed past her head, it's edge visible out of the corner of her eye. She froze, too stunned to react.

"Be careful what you wish for, my dear." The stranger said, his voice coming from behind.

Not wasting any more time, Maria slashed her sword behind her, only for the man to disappear yet again and swing his blade at her from her side, forcing her to go on the defensive. He repeated a similar dive-and-dash technique until he saw Maria had managed to either dodge or block every one of his attacks, though she did not manage to land a counter hit on him while she did this. Maria's heart beat against her rib-cage, drawing in heavy breaths as their duel began to take its toll on her. Though she was already visibly winded, her opponent did not seem to show signs of weariness. 

"What the hell are you?" She questioned, unable to comprehend the speed and dexterity displayed by the stranger.

"Better to ask, what are you?" The stranger responded in a calm voice, as if he was only toying with her.

"I am a Royal Guard of Cainhurst Castle. And I will not be mocked by a trickster such as yourself." She stated defiantly.

"Trickster, you say? Do tell me…" He swung his blade over his left shoulder, attaching it to a long staff that was sheathed on his back before pulling it over his right shoulder, his weapon now resembling a scythe.

"What guard is so easily frightened by a mere jester?" He said in a mocking tone.

Maria had never seen a weapon like that before. Despite its run-down appearance, it was far more complex then anything found in Cainhurst's armory. A short-hand blade that could be transformed into a long-reaching scythe at any time? Combined with his seemingly inhuman speed, she would be outmatched at any distance. Unless….

"Oh, but you see, there are tricks not even the jester could comprehend." Putting all of her focus into the coming strike, Maria set the trail of blood ablaze, which seemed to catch even the experienced stranger off guard as he barely managed to avoid the attack.

"I see. The secrets of the Pthumerian line endure." The stranger said as Maria grasped her sword with both hands, breathing heavily.

"I would have preferred it had not come to this, but you leave me no choice." Maria told the man in front of her, before unleashing an array of attacks with her weapon, each one leaving a trail of blood and fire in their wake. Her opponent managed to evade her swings relatively unfazed and began to swing his scythe horizontally, forcing Maria to evade each strike lest she risk losing her head. Seeing an opening, Maria went on the offensive, taking advantage of her sword's increased range to push her attacker back. She knew she could not keep this up forever, for she already felt the weapon sapping away at her strength.

Their battle continued until Maria could feel her arms growing heavier every second. Despite her best efforts, she could not land a single hit on the scythe-wielding stranger, who seemed to maneuver around her attacks with ease. And something told her that he was holding back. The burden of her blade suddenly growing to strong, Maria was not able to react in time as the man slashed her across the chest with his scythe, the impact of the blow sending her flying back several meters. Her strength drained, she could only watch as the stranger approached her, knowing she had no way of re-energizing herself. She had failed.

"Do it." She beckoned, fully prepared to die.

"Whatever do you mean?" Her assailant questioned her in a calm tone.

"I have failed in my mission. Failed my Queen. You must kill me." She practically pleaded, but all the stranger did was look down at her in silence.

"Now that is most unfortunate. Perhaps I was wrong about you, Maria." Maria's head shot up at the stranger, shocked that he knew her name.

"How did you…?"

"You showed great potential in the Tombs of the Gods. I did not believe that one so young would be such a capable warriot. And who better to send on a mission like this then the Queen's most prized asset." The stranger explained to her.

"You knew I'd come. You wished to test me." She realized.

"Indeed. And I must say, your reputation precedes you, Maria of the Royal Guard." The stranger commended her.

"How did you know I was coming? Cainhurst has been out of contact with your fellows for well over a year." Maria inquired, wondering if there had been a mole in the nobility's court.

"Officially, yes. But do not think I haven't noticed that many of my students have gone missing in lands not far from the borders of Cainhurst Castle." He said, glaring at Maria accusingly.

"What are you talking about?" She asked, genuinely confused by his accusation.

"Annalise never told you, did she? Her Guard has been slaughtering my protegees and harvesting their blood, no doubt bringing it back to their queen in order to further her aim at conceiving the next Vileblood heir. We found one of their bodies not far from the entrance to Hemwick Charnel Lane. The injuries inflicted upon him could only come from a weapon similar to the one you wield now."

This revelation was of great surprise to Maria. She knew that the Queen had ambitions of producing an heir, but she never really considered how she planned to achieve this goal. It horrified her that she had conducted such brutal schemes behind her back, staining the honor of her fellow guards in her selfish pursuit of destiny. If any of this was true, of course.

"Why should I believe you? I understand you are responsible for that new band of vagabonds that go around cleaning up Byrgenwerth's messes. I can see exactly what you're trying to do; trying to turn me against my home in a vain hope to gain my allegiance. I would sooner die then study under the likes of you." She practically snarled at him, seeing right through his façade.

"I do not expect you to believe me, nor will I force you to accept my offer. But know this, Maria. There are things at play within Cainhurst Castle that go against everything you were taught in your adolescence. If you ever find yourself disillusioned with your home, seek out the Hunter's Workshop. There, I can promise your skills will be put to good use." With that, Maria finally rose to her feet, sparing one last look at the stranger before she set of the way she hoped to escape.

"Maria. The two vials you took. Do be so kind as to return them." The stranger called to her after several steps, causing her to remember her original purpose as to coming here. Fishing out the two peculiar vials, she began to wonder whether she wanted to bring this blood back to the Queen. If what the man said was true, did she truly want to be complicit in her scheme? After pondering for several moments, she tossed one of the vials underhand to the stranger, who caught it with little effort. She was just about to do the same for the second one before he stopped her.

"Unscrew the top and press the vial into your leg. It will help you regain some of the strength you lost in our battle. You will no doubt need it for the return journey."

Maria was caught off guard by this order, but she complied with his instructions. She felt her strength slowly return to her and the pain in her chest where the stranger had struck her subside, realizing that this was the fabled Healing Blood that Byrgenwyrth was said to be experimenting with. She had long thought those stories myths and he found herself wondering what other secrets these scholars hid. But an immediate one stuck out.

"Who are you?" She asked the stranger one more time.

"You may have heard whisperings within Annalise’s court about one known only as "The First Hunter." He smiled then, his eyes glancing in her direction beneath the tips of his hat.

"But you may call me, Gehrman."

….

“And the rest, you can say, is history.” Maria concluded her account, with Zoran looking on in wide-eyed amazement.

Everything Gehrman told her had been true. Upon discovering the truth, she denounced the Cainhurst Nobility, abandoned the Royal Guard and left Cainhurst Castle, never to return. Once she arrived at the Hunter's Workshop, Gehrman had taken her in, teaching her in the ways of the Hunt. Her Rakuyo had been designed specifically to serve as a foil to her previous reliance on blood tinge, a fact she kept secret from her fellow hunters in fear of retaliation.

Over-time, she would evolve into one of the finest hunters in all of Yharnam, to a point where she was ranked only under Gehrman in terms of prowess. Until the tragic cycle of disillusionment repeated itself.

“You said earlier that Cainhurst funded Byrgenwerth’s research. Why?” He inquired, appearing genuinely eager to discover more.

“Because in a way, Byrgenwyrth owed it’s entire existence to their pilgrimage. When Wilhelm first founded the college, he had to get the nobility’s approval to use the land in order to construct what he thought would be a place to study history, archaeology and various other subjects relating to the human condition. When the scope of their studies expanded, his scholars would descend down into the Tombs; but due to their limited budget, they needed Cainhurst to fill the void for their protection.” She explained, though it was clear he was still curious.

“And you were among them?” He continued his questioning.

“I was. I remember being told that the scholars we were defending were a means to an end, so we could reclaim our birthright as the descendants of the Pthumerians. But at some-point, Byrgenwerth’s influence grew far beyond what Cainhurst had predicted and the visions of the two parties diverged significantly. From that point on, a strong animosity plagued their relations, until communications abruptly ceased.”

After she concluded her recollection, Zoran seemed to take a little while to formulate his next question.

“So. A knight of Cainhurst, were you?” Maria lightly smiled, amused that he had not pieced this together sooner.

“Don’t tell me you’re surprised.” She teased him.

“I’m not. It’s just…from what little I’ve heard about you prior; it was said you despised the use of blood-blades.” He explained, though this only amplified her amusement.

“And how do you think I developed that distaste?” She asked in a light-hearted tone.

“Touché, I suppose.” He acknowledged, before deciding to pursue the subject further. “What was it like, then? Growing up in Cainhurst Castle.” He asked, though Maria did not answer immediately.

“My upbringing. It was… complicated to say the least.” She stated, hearkening back to her early years.

“How so?” He inquired.

“My father was a diplomat, distantly related to Annalise. He met my mother while he was drafting a defensive agreement with another kingdom and ultimately brought her back with him, though he had to fight tooth and nail for their marriage to be accepted. As you could imagine, being the result of a union between an official and a foreigner made me…unpopular among my peers. They thought me a perversion. A stain on the noble Cainhurst bloodline.” She revealed and it seemed Zoran knew exactly where she was going.

“I would imagine you wanted to prove them wrong?” He correctly inquired and she decided to carry on.

“Yes, but at the time, I had no idea how to do it. I spent most of my childhood pursuing various fields and practices, trying to find something I could dedicate my life to. But one thing I was always fascinated by were knights. I remember scouring through our archives for stories of valor and indulging in make-believe battles with the few children that were willing to associate with me.” Maria paused for a moment, smiling as she remembered just how naïve she had been then.

“I had my grandfather to thank for that. He was one a long time ago, and he had quite a few stories to tell as a result. While I was growing up, I revered him; wanted to be exactly like him. When he watched over me while father was away on assignments, I would keep pestering him to teach me how to use a sword and although he rebuked me several times, he finally caved. And it didn’t take long for those lessons to become a regular occurrence, albeit ones that were conducted in secret.” She revealed.

“And let me guess. You were a natural?” He asked with a trace of amusement.

“He certainly seemed to think so. For one day, I was summoned to come before the King and Queen. My father was there, as were the rest of their council, which as you understand made me nervous that I was about to be scolded. But instead, I was prompted to rise and given one of our ceremonial blades. The next thing I knew, my grandfather entered from the side.” She recounted with a smile on her face.

“Really?” He said, no doubt enjoying her recollection.

“Yes. He said later that he pulled a few strings in order to get a chance for me to show my potential to Annalise, who was impressed enough with my performance that she ordered for me to receive further training. Once my position in the ranks had been secured, my family threw me a surprise dinner in celebration, where my father expressed his support for my ascension. After that, my grandfather gifted me his old weapon, saying that there will be stories written about me in due time.” It was so strange. Back in the day, recounting that night would always bring a smile to her face. Now, it invoked nothing but feelings of melancholy; ponderings of what could've been had she not gone down this path. Even the most precious of memories could be sullied by the passage of time.

“Were you happy? Once you were accepted, I mean.”

“For a time, I was. As I continued to rise through the ranks, I remember being so proud of myself, of the honor I brought to my family name. But I learned very soon that nothing I would do would earn me acceptance among my fellow knights, even the ones under my command. And after the Forbidden Blood was brought back to my homeland, it changed everything.” She continued.

“The ways of old were slowly abandoned and the methods of our forces began to revolve around our newfound control of blood. I aimed to pioneer this new style of combat; pushing myself further and further so I could grow as powerful as I possibly could, not knowing that-much like the nobility's thirst for the blood-no amount of power would ever be enough. And that I had sold out my bloodline; my very soul in pursuit of something I would never receive.”

As she concluded her account, her demeanor shifted to a much more downcast state, as she found herself lamenting the lengths she had gone to in order to feel like she belonged at Cainhurst, sacrifices she had made in vain.

“Do you ever miss it?” She was snapped out of her stupor when Zoran asked yet another question, though she almost didn’t hear it in full.

“Hmm?” She murmured in slight confusion.

“Cainhurst. Or at least, what it used to be.” He clarified, leaving her to ponder his question.

She hadn’t heeded her former home much thought over the later years of her life, focused as she was on her duties within the Church. But her battles with Zoran had forced her to embrace all the worst aspects of her heritage. But instead of putting her thoughts into words, she reached into her jacket and pulled out the shattered photo-frame she had picked up earlier, handing it to Zoran.

“Are these…the Old Hunters?” He asked, his eyes tracing over the photograph.

“Yes. My compatriots. My friends. My family.” She answered, softly smiling as she thought back to everyone gathered in that picture.

“There’s so few of you…” He noted, appearing surprised that there were little more then a dozen people in the photo.

“Back then, that was all that we really needed. We were mostly assigned to exhibitions into the Tombs, before we began to aid Laurence’s ambitions in the background. It was only after the Healing Church grew in influence when we needed to greatly expand our ranks.” She explained.

She could tell that his eyes were set at the center of the photo, where her and Gehrman stood on either side of a man wearing a scholarly uniform.

“That is him, if you’re wondering.” She said to him, recognizing he was trying to figure out whether he was looking at was Laurence or not. “He and Gehrman were very close. So, when he began training the hunters, Laurence was made an honorary member.” She revealed, though she vastly undersold just how close the two of them were. Almost like brothers.

“So that’s what Gehrman looked like in his heyday? If it weren’t for the leg, I could hardly tell the difference.” Zoran said.

“That was by design. To a beast, someone of his stature would seem like easy prey; until they were cut down faster then they could blink.” Maria explained, remembering the sheer spectacle of seeing Gehrman move. It was an art-form.

“What about the others? Who are they?”

Maria proceeded to point out and name each of her compatriots, with each one bringing back a certain sense of nostalgia. They had all been carefully selected by Gehrman, who had made it a top priority to ensure there was a diversity of talents amongst his pupils.

Valtr stood by Maria’s side in the photo, but for whatever reason, Zoran did not seem to recognize his former master. After this brief moment of confusion, she moved on to the rest of her compatriots.

Yamamura, a warrior hailing from an Eastern land who had fled his home after a series of reforms rendered his order obsolete; wandering the lands with no clear aim. Gehrman had caught wind of his presence in the city and after besting him in a duel, had offered him a chance to put his talent with his ceremonial blade to good use.

Lobsang, a traveler hailing from a mountainous land. An efficient, but gracious hunter, he was also a very spiritual man. Whenever one of their fellow hunters passed, he would organize a funeral where they were left on the hills just beyond the city; allowing the elements and carrion birds to claim them and letting them return to the sky.

Damian, a Byrgenwerth scholar who was ardently committed to the idea of gaining audience with the Great Ones and eagerly volunteered to join the hunters in their treks into the Tombs. He developed a close working relationship with fellow scholar Micolash and when the time came, he became a key supporter of his newly formed school within the Healing Church.

Dores, who had served as Willem's personal body-guard. She remembered partaking in a rescue mission to retrieve him and a scholar from the Pthumerian labyrinths, an experience that drove both of them mad and robbed Dores of the ability to speak. He was one of few hunters to remain with Willem after the schism, loyal as he was. 

Faust, an exceptionally talented medic and all-around colorful personality, albeit one who was down on his luck when he had been recruited. He would go on to become a pioneer of blood ministration, as well as her right-hand man in the Church’s experiments.

Selene, a street thief whose penchant for stealth and infiltration made her well-suited to navigate and plunder the ancient labyrinths beneath Yharnam. As Faust's sibling, she had been the one who provided him with the supplies and utensils he needed to conduct his business and more often then not, she accomplished this by breaking into Byrgenwyrth's medical buildings, which was how Gehrman discovered them. The last she saw of her, she was working within the Church's charity division.

Leonard, who’s bravery and resolve were second to none; one account describing how he had supposedly held of a beast with nothing but a broken sword he had plucked from a nearby corpse. He would remain a hunter till the end of his days, founding the Tomb Prospectors and exploring the labyrinths on the Church’s behalf until his eventual disappearance.

Douglas, a loud-mouthed Scotsman who despite his ill-temper and abrasive personality was an undeniably formidable warrior, and more surprisingly, an incredibly loyal companion and friend. Yet it was with Yamamura that he developed the closest bond of friendship, and after he fell in battle against a powerful beast, the Eastern warrior pursued it with a vengeance.

And then there was Ludwig, standing by Gehrman’s side with his hands on the pommel of his prized great sword; radiating dignity and pride. And this wasn’t unearned, for he had been an incredibly capable warrior even in his early days. Before Gehrman’s retirement, he had been the natural choice to be his replacement and no matter how much he insisted that she be the one to take up his mantel, she knew from the start that he was more of a leader then she could ever hope to be.

One thing Maria did not admit was that she had developed something of a fancy for him, one she respectively bowed out off after he had informed her of his…inclination. But regardless, they remained close friends, although she long considered that to be the most embarrassing moment of her life.

“An interesting cast of characters, to be sure.” Zoran said after she had finished describing them all.

"Oh, undoubtedly. But they were all masters of their craft and Gehrman knew it. He had a keen eye for those with unrealized potential and would take them under his wing; giving them the chance to put it to good use. And he expected nothing in return, but I think he knew that we would've died for him. He gave us a home. A purpose. And helped us realized just what we were truly capable off."

The two stared at the photo for a little while longer, until Zoran seemed to remember what had led to this exchange to begin with.

“I take it the answer is no, then?” He said, causing her eyes to drift to the side.

“I can’t say. The longer I spent away from home, the more I realized just how flawed my world-view had been. I had perpetuated a system where the vast majority lived as serfs, all while having potentially life-saving treatment kept from them because they weren’t considered worthy of the privilege. And that, despite what I originally thought, I was only ever a pawn in Annalise's game. People feared me and so long as I was loyal to her, she would reign unopposed. And she had her ways to make sure I remained a servant.” As she recounted all the systemic problems of her homeland, she couldn’t help but feel shame at her past service to the Cainhurst elite.

“I…I can imagine.” Zoran offhandedly commented, arousing a brief moment of confusion before she chose to continue.

“But I cannot deny that…I missed my family. Grandfather passed away just before the Old Blood was recovered, but I still had to leave my parents behind. We were never on the best of terms, but I always knew they only wanted the best for me. So the day I departed, I left a detailed note in my father’s study informing him of my decision and telling him I hoped we would meet again some day. But as I was about to leave, I found my mother waiting for me.” She paused briefly before continuing.

“She told me that she had been aware of my desire to leave for some time and that if that was what would make me happy, then she would not stop me. And just as we were about to part ways, she gave me this.” She recounted, pointing to the green jeweled brooch on her collar. “It had been a gift from my father when he proposed marriage to her, proof that he treasured their bond far more then he did his reputation. And she said she hoped that I would pass it on to someone one day, without the same limitations her and him experienced. She said that-she was proud of me, and that she knew I would go on to do great things.” She revealed, her smile fading as she realized how well her mother’s prediction held up under scrutiny.

“That was the last I saw of either of them. I pledged to uphold the traditions of my homeland as best I could, but in the end, leaving that accursed land is one of the few things I don’t regret.”

As the two sat in silence for the next little while, Maria thought back to what she heard when she entered the tower; the only display of Zoran’s heritage she had seen since their meetings began. Feeling slightly more confident in her approach, she posed him a question of her own.

“What about you? What was your home like?”

Zoran turned his head in her direction, his eyes looking off to the side as indecision seemed to grip him.

“What city was it?” She looked back at him in confusion, unsure if she had heard him correctly.

“Excuse me?” She said to get him to clarify his bizarre question.

“Your mother’s home. It was in Poland, wasn’t it?” Upon hearing him say this, Maria’s eyes widened in shock.

“It...was. Krakow, I believe...how could you possibly know that?” She acknowledged after recovering from her daze, utterly bewildered how he was aware of such a thing.

“The agreement your father drafted. Krakow erupted in rebellion against it’s Hapsburg masters several decades ago and if I were a betting man, I would wager Yharnam was seeking its independence as well. They saw they had a common enemy and chose to unite against them.” He explained, leaving Maria even more baffled by his uncanny deduction.

“Is there any reason you’re telling me this?” She demanded, more then a little frustrated by how he seemed to be avoiding her question.

“As a matter of fact, there is. As it happens, such an agreement was necessary because of events set in motion by my ancestors.” This revelation both erased her perception that he was playing mind-games with her and kindled her intrigue.

“Go on.” She said to him, keen on hearing more.

“They lived along the banks of a great river; vassals of the union between Poland and Lithuania. One day, they rebelled against the Commonwealth and in a bid for protection, allied themselves with Moscow. And so, this alliance continued, until the Russian state was cemented as the major power in the region. But more then a century later, the monarchy abolished their hegemony and resettled them to lands close to the Black Sea, which is where I grew up in. In any other case, I’m sure they would’ve been exiled, but they were simply to valuable an asset to give up.” He started off, though Maria was slightly puzzled by why he chose to begin with this piece of local history.

“Why is that?” She inquired, genuinely curious.

“Because they saw their worth as a military force.” He revealed, before continuing. “There were many hosts much like ours, strategically scattered across the lands along the empire’s borders as buffer zones. But the few traits that were universal amongst us were our desire for self-governance and our rigid military structure.” He briefly paused before continuing.

“War was our way of life and there was scarcely a period where we weren’t on some sort of campaign. For more then a century, we served as a vanguard of their expansionist forces; aiding their ambitions in exchange for relative sovereignty. It was a shaky arrangement from the start, but so long as our freedom was assured, we were content with serving the Tsar.”

As Zoran went into further detail, fragments of a distant memory returned to Maria’s mind. Stories her mother would tell of nomadic warriors whose unparalleled horsemanship and vicious efficiency on the battlefield was known and feared throughout Europe. But their society was said to be a polar opposite of their benefactors, valuing freedom and democracy above all else. And some of the words he used seemed oddly familiar.

The Black Sea. Moscow. Tsar.

Maria stared slack-jawed at the hunter as she realized just who was sitting besides her.

“You’re one of the Cossacks?!” She exclaimed in a mixture of shock and realization, with Zoran turning his attention to her.

“Ah. Someone who knows their history.” He commended her.

“History? Cossack warriors are the stuff of legend. Their horsemanship was said to be unrivaled and their efficiency on the battlefield almost without peer, yet that was about all any of us knew about them. I just…never imagined I would meet one in the flesh.” She said, with her apparent excitement amusing her visitor.

“Do I live up to expectations?” He light-heartedly asked.

“Well, if nothing else, I can understand why so many were afraid of you. What with the first-hand account and all.” She admitted as Zoran’s face shifted beneath his mask in what she assumed to be a smile.

“Ah, Maria. You flatter me.” He said in mock pride, placing a hand over his heart to drive it home; as Maria barely managed to suppress a laugh.

“Oh, but enough of monarchist politics. Tell me more about _your _history.”

This simple prompt spawned hours of mindless conversation, as Zoran described every minute detail of his upbringing, day-to-day life and service in the military, which branched off into Maria describing small parts of her time in Cainhurst in kind.

When he revealed that he had been taught how to ride a horse at the age of three, she told a story of a disastrous carriage ride that left her and her father stranded in the woods.

Descriptions of the wide-open land surrounding his _stantista_, as it was called, prompted her to describe the undeniable beauty of the castle during winter time.

His recollections of the strange haircuts sported by some of their older soldiers as a mark of honor and pride reminded her of a wig prized by many of her fellow knights, despite it being little more then a silver ponytail. Then again, they always found pride in the strangest things.

And his recollections of social gatherings among his friends spurred mentions of the lavish feasts the nobles would organize for themselves and they both found that they tended to result in unspeakable depravity.

So these retellings of the mundanities of their everyday lives continued, yet despite this, Maria’s interest never wavered. Every small story he told her only piqued her curiosity further and she found herself smiling, laughing and joking all throughout their exchange. And he was clearly enjoying himself as well, which made the whole thing even better.

“The army choir, you say?” She asked with a wide smile on her face as Zoran began yet another account.

“Indeed, though I only did it because one of my army friends persuaded me to join. I was skeptical, but he assured me that I had an impeccable singing voice.” He revealed with his mask doing little to hide his amusement.

“And do you?” She coyly asked, the little she heard of it prior still fresh in her mind.

“The conductor certainly seemed to think so. Thing is, the reason I was nervous was because, until then, I’d never actually done it sober.” Maria erupted in laughter at this revelation, having done so numerous times prior as she listened to tales of his escapades.

“Never figured you for a musician.” She light-heartedly commented as her laughter subsided.

“Really now? Do tell me, how did you enjoy those violin lessons?” He fired back as Maria shook her head in amusement.

“I told you before, it was my mother’s idea, not mine. Besides, I only ever managed to learn one tune.” She reminded him, still embarrassed at the memory.

“Come now, I’m sure you were marvelous. Maybe I can dig one up somewhere and you can show me.” Zoran continued to tease her, though even then, the smile did not fade from her face.

“Cheeky, aren’t we?” She noted, her spirits lifted that he was once again showing some signs of his natural self.

“I can even sing along if you’d like. If nothing else, my ensemble had a wonderful catalogue.” He assured her, eliciting a chuckle from her at the idea.

“I’m sure they did.” She said before a brief silence settled over them, with Maria noting just how lively her visitor seemed compared to their last meeting. “I must admit. Going off of what I heard about your people, I would’ve dismissed you as little more then a band of barbarians.” She told him, having gotten a sufficient impression of their customs.

“Aye, well, that’s how it is. When you’re at someone’s beck and call at all times, it’s essential to find something to take your mind of it all. Very easy to forget that the battlefield isn’t all that defines you.” After he said this, his gaze became slightly downcast, as if he was sentimental about something.

“You miss it, don’t you?” She softly asked him, with his only response being a drawn-out exhale. She decided to try her luck at determining the cause of his longing. “Did you leave someone behind?” He sprang back to attention, appearing slightly flustered at her question.

“Oh, no. Nothing like that. The early years of a Cossack’s life just wasn’t suited for that type of union.” He clarified in slight embarrassment.

“I see. Family then, is it?” She acknowledged before continuing her inquiry.

“My father and a younger sister. My mother…passed away a few years after her birth.” He revealed as his lively demeanor slowly faded away.

“I’m sorry.” She stated in acknowledgment.

“Her time came. There was nothing any of us could’ve done to save her. But father took it the hardest. Her passing utterly devastated him, so much so that he retired from service and swore never to marry again.” As upsetting as his story seemed, Maria found it rather moving that Zoran’s parents seemed to have cared for each-other so.

“And what did he do then?” She inquired, for whatever reason expecting the worse.

“The only thing he could do. He raised us on his own; becoming a farmer in order to support us. And as I grew older, he began to prepare me for my mandatory service, granting me his old uniform and weaponry when the time for my first campaign came: no fanfare, no rousing speech. Just instructions to hop on my horse, keep my head down and to be back in time for Christmas.” Maria couldn’t help but softly smile as Zoran praised his father, pleasantly surprised to hear he had grown up in a relatively loving household. With everything that had happened to him, she almost expected to hear that he had been abused as a child or something equally awful.

“He sounds like a great man.” She acknowledged.

“Yes, that he is. Everything I am today, I owe to his guidance. And even when I had a block of land to call my own, his door always remained open.” He sighed softly then, as if he was reminiscing about days long past.

“What about your sister? Were you close?” She asked, having not heard anything about her thus far.

“Ah, little Olena. My pride and joy. We were almost inseparable, me and her; always out somewhere in the village doing only God knows what. She always there to reign me in, and even when we were a nation’s length apart, I could count on her to keep our home safe.” He recounted, his eyes lightly glistening as he spoke.

“Was she a soldier, too?” She asked, noting just how proud he seemed to be of his sister.

“No. But that doesn’t mean she wasn’t eager to learn.” He answered.

“I always did wonder what it would be like to have a sibling. Maybe growing up wouldn’t have been so lonely then.” She reminisced; her voice slightly trailing.

“Maybe so. But when someone’s is always there for you, you begin to take them for granted. And you don’t realize just how much they mean to you until they’re no longer there.” He said in reply, turning to look her in the eye. “You two would’ve gotten along well, I think. She was always the more outgoing one between us.” He told her, her lips curving into a slight smile at this comment.

“I find that very hard to believe.” She lightly teased him, with his only reply being an acknowledging “hmm”.

The two sat in silence for the next little while, as Maria tried to think of a way to continue the conversation. She was not prepared to press Zoran further in terms of his family history, seeing as her inquiry into his personal life was already pushing boundaries. Yet the openness he had shown during their conversation quelled her fear that she had somehow broken his trust. Feeling more confident, she decided to reintroduce the subject that defined their last encounter, but in a more direct way.

“Why do you wear it?” She asked, drawing his attention back to her.

“Pardon?” He said in confusion, almost as if he had been broken out of a trance.

“Your mask.” She clarified, leaving him to look back at her in an uneasy silence.

“What do you think?” He asked in response, either out of genuine curiosity or in an attempt to change the subject.

“What I think?” She repeated his question, taking a moment to ponder her answer. “I think you do so because you’re trying to hide. Be it out of a desire to appear in control when you’re really not, or if you are simply to ashamed to show your face after everything that has happened.” She stopped speaking then, staring Zoran dead in the eyes.

“Am I correct?” Maria demanded, though the hunter did not immediately answer. After a while, he simply looked off at the opposite end of the room, appearing hesitant to speak.

“Nothing escapes your scrutiny, does it?” He said in a plain attempt to play her questioning off.

“Zoran.” She firmly said, signifying she wanted him to take this seriously. After a little while, he let out a sigh and succumbed to her pressure.

“You see, the process I went through as I grew up was…quite grueling. As soldiers, we were expected to be well-disciplined and efficient; meaning we had to close ourselves off from the suffering we inflicted on our opponents. To show remorse was to show weakness, and weakness was to be severely punished.” After this brief explanation, he looked back in her direction before continuing.

“I've-killed a lot of people in my time. Many I thought were deserving, and many I knew were not. And ever since the first time I did it, I knew I would never be able to do what was expected off me. So I spent as much time off the battlefield as I could: I would hunt, tend to weapons and horses, collect timber and provide reconnaissance, among other things. But I could never shy away from taking up arms, for if I let my true feelings be known, I would've been ridiculed; branded a coward and a weakling. And who would dare associate with such a poor excuse for a Cossack?” He finished his explanation, his eyes slightly gazing downwards as Maria looked on, regretting her unwelcome move during their last encounter even more.

“Did you truly have no one to turn to?” She asked, finding it hard to believe he was completely isolated.

“Only Olena, and even then, we would scarcely discuss it. As for my father, well…as supportive as he was, I never told him.” He revealed, casting his eyes to the side. "I went on many raids and fought many battles, but it didn't get any easier. Really, the only thing that kept me going was knowing that- this was why I was born. I was always meant to be a soldier and to turn away from that would make me a disgrace to my people. A disgrace to my family." It was then Maria realized just how much trust Zoran had built with her that had shared his struggles at all, much less to such a great extent.

“About the last time we saw each-other. When I tried to unmask you, I must admit, I…” She paused briefly, ashamed that she had to admit this at all. “I wasn’t acting with only your best interest in mind.” She revealed as she averted her gaze. Despite the cryptic nature of her statement, Zoran must’ve understood what she meant, as he didn’t say anything in response. But eventually, he saw fit to speak.

“Are you still curious?”

She turned her eyes back at him in surprise, finding that he was looking back at her expectantly. Taking a moment to contemplate her next move, she slowly began to reach for his mask; before stopping just as her hand was about to come into contact with it. Even as hesitation stopped her, their eyes remained locked.

“May I?” She asked him, wanting to be certain this was what he wanted, which he soon confirmed with a silent nod of his head.

She started by easing the decorative cap from his head with both hands, revealing a mess of brown hair on the top of his head. Setting it aside, she then took hold of the top of his mask and slowly begun to lower it as Zoran’s head leaned forward slightly to encourage her. It wasn’t long until her eyes were drawn to his defining feature. A long scar across his right eye. Maria’s hand found its way to his cheek, softly tracing her thumb across the fading wound.

“Marked in more ways then one, I see?” She softly stated, smiling back at him.

“I suppose you can say that.” He said in response, his brown eyes appearing much lighter now that they weren’t obscured by his head-wear.

From the few illustrations she had seen of the Cossacks, she recalled almost all of them having incredibly long mustaches and distinct, imposing faces. Yet the one before her was strikingly…ordinary.

The features of his face were well defined, with a faint trace of a mustache stretching the length of his lips. As she observed him, he softly smiled at her; his apparent maturity belying a sense of youthful mischief. Really, he looked like he could’ve come from anywhere, but the fact that he was a soldier was not in doubt. And quite a handsome soldier at that.

As she looked him over in greater detail, she noticed that the area beneath his eyes were sunken, making her wonder just how long they had been like this.

"Zoran, when was the last time you slept?" She questioned him, concern clouding her mind.

"Not since the night of the hunt started." He admitted.

"And how long ago was that?" She pressed on.

"I don't know. I stopped attempting to comprehend the flow of time here long ago. Besides, it's not like I have anywhere to rest without worry."

Maria knew she couldn't let him leave in his condition, but what could she possibly do? The few beds that were present in the Research Hall that weren’t unsanitized where too far away for him to reach in his current state. She knew he did not wish to return to Dream unless he absolutely had to, being unable to find comfort there anymore. That only left…

"You may rest here." Maria offered him.

"Maria, no. I'm fine." He attempted to stand up, but Maria placed a firm hand on his shoulder to stop him.

"No, you are not. You need rest. You will get no closer to whatever it is you seek by depriving yourself of sleep."

"But I…" He attempted to argue before Maria interjected once more.

"Remember that you are only human. Rest. I will watch over you." She attempted to calm him down, coming off as more eager then she intended to.

"Trust me."

Zoran seemed to take a moment to process her offer, seemingly pondering the ramifications of letting his guard down in so absolute a fashion. But he was clearly in no position to argue any further.

"Alright." He eventually agreed. "But I need to…"

"Hold on. Allow me" Maria immediately understood what he was going to say; rising from her seat to aid him in lifting his wounded leg up so he may properly lie down on the stairwell, leaving him lying on his back with his hands on his chest.

“Do you need anything else?” She asked, as his position was undoubtedly uncomfortable.

“No. This’ll do.” He answered, slightly shifting as he spoke. Content with his answer, she turned around to return to her chair only to suddenly feel his hand grasp hers, causing her to look down at him in surprise.

"Wait, actually…can you stay here? Please?" He requested, catching her by surprise.

Against her better judgement, she sat back down and looked down at Zoran as he lay on the stairwell, seemingly struggling to relax himself. An idea formed in her head, moving a bit closer to him and gently lifting up his ailing head, allowing him to rest it on her lap.

"Maria, what are you doing?" He questioned her in a hazy voice as she did this.

"It’s alright. Now shut your eyes. Rest.” She gently reassured him and as she felt him slowly begin to relax himself, she quietly removed her jacket and draped it over his body as he slightly shifted as a result of her action. His eyes fluttered open, looking down at his new covering before rising to meet hers. Maria experienced a flush of embarrassment, silently praying that she wasn't blushing as she awaited his reaction. Yet all he did was smile, which brought a sudden feeling of warmth that made her smile back. 

“And here I thought I had you all figured out.” He said in a low voice after they remained in that position for what seemed like an eternity.

"I thought the same about you, not to long ago." Maria admitted after she regained some semblance of sense.

"Really? And what did you see?" He inquired, his curiosity spurred. 

"What I expected to see-was a beast. Or at least, someone holding onto the last vestiges of their humanity. But that is not what I found." She begun to gently run her fingers through his hair. "What I saw instead-was a raging sea. And in this sea, there was a ship; damaged, but still salvageable. And all it needed to stay afloat was a light; one that can help guide it back to shore." She concluded her account by placing her hand over his chest, where both of his were folded.

"Sleep now, Zoran. I will wake you once the waters calm." Soon after, he shut his eyes and relaxed his head against her lap as Maria continued to look down at him, experiencing a strange sense of comfort from seeing him so at ease. He finally fell asleep not long after, his breathing slowing down to a consistent rhythm as she looked down at the slumbering hunter, softly smiling at him.

“No ship is meant to be steered alone.”

….

Zoran gripped his cane with one hand as Maria gently held on to his other arm, slowly guiding himself down the staircase outside her tower. He had woken up from his much-needed nap only a few minutes earlier, finding that the pain in his leg had all but vanished; the Healing Blood had run its course. Despite his fear of nightmares gripping him as he slept, none had appeared, allowing him to sleep soundly and according to his guardian, lengthily.

He had long wandered whether he could truly slumber in his current state and with the constant danger of his surroundings, he had never been bold enough to attempt it. It wasn't helped that he had struggled with sleep since he was a child, never feeling secure in sleeping unless someone was there to watch over him. But here, he felt secure. Like nothing there could hurt him.

“Easy now. One step at a time.” Maria coached him, noticing slight wince he had made when he put pressure on his bad leg.

“I’m fine. Just need a little time to readjust, is all.” He reassured her before continuing downwards, reaching the bottom in short order and prompting her to release her hold on his arm.

“I’m in your debt yet again.” He said as he turned towards her, still gripping his cane more out of custom then necessity. “I do believe I’ve taken up enough of your time. It’s time I returned to my duties.” He stated before turning towards the lantern to their side, the messengers reaching out for him as they always did.

“Where do you think you’re going?” She asked him in a tone that drew the line between stern and inviting, stopping his short walk before it even begun.

“I’m…going back to the Dream.” He clarified, slightly confused by her demand.

“I’m afraid I can’t release you from my custody just yet. There’s one more small thing I want you to do.” She revealed, baffling the hunter even further.

“And whatever will that be?” He demanded light-heartedly, intrigued by what she had in mind.

“How confident are you in your bad leg?” This question caught him off guard, but he chose to go along.

“I can walk, if nothing else. Why do you ask?” He answered, still confused by what she wanted from him.

“I wish to teach you one of Gehrman’s oldest techniques. The Art of Quickening.” Zoran immediately recognized which technique she was referring to. During their duels, he remembered instances when she seemed to move faster then his eyes could track; her movements obscured by a white mist.

“Could you really do that? By all accounts, that art was lost long ago.” He said, remembering reading somewhere that the technique in question has not been used since the founding of the Church Hunters.

“It was to be expected. It takes even the most seasoned hunter years to truly master the art. And yet, I feel as if your creed of hunter would be better accustomed to such a technique.” Maria then held out her hand, looking at him expectantly. “Your firearm. Give it to me.”

Complying with her instruction, he upholstered his pistol and handed it over to her. He watched intently as she took out one of the bullets loaded within and inspected it. It was a pale white, having been fused with his own blood in some arcane ritual upon his arrival in the Dream Workshop. Gehrman had said normal bullets would be ineffective against his query, which made the usage of these “Quicksilver” bullets a necessity.

“Your cane.” Realizing what she was planning, he moistened for her to step back before reluctantly swinging his support to the side and transforming it into a bladed whip. He would’ve preferred for this to remain hidden. Brought back far too many unpleasant memories from back home.

Holding it out, he watched as Maria took off one of her gloves and lightly nicked one of her fingers on the jagged edge; the two of them wincing almost in tandem. Holding out the bullet, she positioned her bleeding finger just above it; the two of them watching as a drop of her blood fell onto the silver bullet and seemed to merge with his own.

“That should do it.” She said, handing the bullet back to him.

“What exactly am I to do with this?” He asked as he held the special bullet in his hands, more then a little perplexed as to what she was planning.

“I believe that you, with your connection to the Dream, have the ability to tap into the abilities of hunters long past. Albeit when something binds you to them in some way.” She explained, with the prospect intriguing him. He had acquired several tools that were no doubt used by other hunters before them and seemed to know exactly how to use them the moment he picked them up. But to do so with an art as precise as this…

“I suppose it wouldn’t hurt to try.” He said, eager to see if it was possible. “What now?” He asked as he awaited her next instruction.

“Come.” She said simply, leading him into the small garden just beside them; stopping a few steps away from the massive flower at the center. “Hold it tight. Now close your eyes.” He complied with her instructions and soon, he could feel a strange sensation sweeping through him. As if the blood in his veins was no longer his own.

“Do you feel it?” He could hear Maria’s voice beside him, which by itself seemed to calm him.

“Yes.” He replied.

“Very good. Now, I want you to look deep within your mind. Uncover the secrets of your forebears.” He did as she asked, racking his mind until a distant memory seemed to return to him. Its arcane powers flowed through his body and it felt as if he was no longer confined to the limitations of his human form.

“I have it.” He said triumphantly.

“Excellent. Now what you need to do is relax; focus in on your surroundings. And when you think you’re ready, move forward as fast as you can.” Taking in a deep breath, he took in the feeling of the breeze brushing against his face and the pleasant smell of the surrounding flowers. Then, after standing still for a few moments, he dashed forward…

His physical form seemed to evaporate before it reformed itself just as quickly, leading to him collapsing to the ground as he struggled for breath. His head was spinning. His heart was racing. His leg was flaring with pain. And he felt as if…

“I think I’m going to be sick…” He promptly warned Maria as he tried his hardest to contain his upset stomach, registering that she was already by his side.

Almost as soon as he said this, he was being dragged to a nearby railing, which he managed to reach just before his vomit finally gave way. He once again attempted to catch his breath, gripping the railing with both hands as he leaned slightly over the side. Through it all, Maria was gently patting him on the back, trying what she could to relieve him.

“Sorry you had to see that.” He said as his breath returned and he straightened himself out.

“No need. I reacted about the same way when I first attempted it. The old man had the nerve to tell me that it was to be expected.” He softly chuckled, although he still felt stiff after his ordeal.

“God, I’m exhausted. How is it you can use this so many times without tiring?” He asked as he recalled just how effortlessly she had utilized it in their battles.

“The key is to utilize it sparingly. If you were to use it in quick succession, it would tire you out very quickly. It would be tantamount to save it for when an enemy is on the offensive so you may catch it off guard. With a technique like this, timing is everything.” As he absorbed her advice, it occurred to him just how freely she was divulging the secrets of her trade. Especially since he may use it against her were their hostilities to resume.

“May I ask you something, Maria?” A look of slight unsurety found its way onto her face, but she eventually responded.

"Sure." He straightened himself out and looked at her with a serious expression.

"When do you think this will end?" She appeared confused by his question, slightly narrowing her eyes.

"What do you mean?" She asked in hope of clarification.

"This arrangement of ours. Surely, there will come a time when it will run it's course." Maria turned her head slightly to the side, seemingly pondering what it was she would say. 

"I'm...I'm sure we'll both know when the time comes." She responded after meeting his eyes again and Zoran sensed a slight apprehension to her words.

"You sound uncertain." He acknowledged.

"Off course not, I understand that..." She paused then and after a brief sigh, chose to start again. "Look. I know this is most likely something you don't want to hear, but this agreement of ours will last for as long as you want it too. If you feel now is the right time for us to part ways, then I will understand..."

"No, that not what I..." He interrupted her as an unexpected panic surged through him. Maria looked back at him in surprise at his forceful response, prompting him to try and clear up any misunderstanding he may have caused. "I mean, there's no need for us to get ahead of ourselves. I have no intentions of stopping this for now." He rebounded as well as he could, which seemed to be enough for her.

"Really? Well, that's quite a relief." Maria said with a slight smile.

A relief? She was relieved that he wasn't leaving? He knew that they had long ago shed their mutual animosity, but it was still so surreal to hear those words coming from her. Was this really the same woman who had cut him down as if he were no more then a simple beast not too long ago? Truth be told, he had almost forgotten that their current relationship was the result of a truce. Really, he had kept coming back in part because he very much enjoyed her company.

The Doll that was no doubt based on her had been a great help throughout his journey and he greatly appreciated having someone he could always turn to. But she was naïve; incapable of comprehending or assisting him in dealing with his grievances and troubles. She was simply there to make his hunt easier, to help him gain more power and offer words of support. That was her sole purpose. Still, he distinctly remembered an odd exchange he had with her a while ago, where seemingly without prompt she asked him a question he hadn't been prepared to answer.

"Would you ever think to love me?" She had asked. And for whatever reason, her question still came to thought from time to time, even more so in the past few days.

Maria had mellowed over the span of their sessions and while she remained a diligent listener and prudent in her advice, recently she appeared to become more...cordial, so to say. Her conduct had shifted in such a way that he sometimes forgot that if fate hadn’t willed it so, they would no doubt be in the midst of killing each-other. And seeing this other side of her was a very welcome surprise. He hadn't realized how much he had missed being able to converse with someone about such trivial matters, more-so in a way where he didn't need to filter himself. He had been wanting to find a way to lift Maria's spirits in some way for some time, to repay her even in so minor a fashion. Yet seeing her in so merry a mood, smiling and laughing as if nothing were wrong in the world was like a reward in and of-itself.

But after Maria took off his mask and got her first true look at who he was underneath, it was like he was seeing her in a whole new light. Her beauty had been evident since he first laid eyes on her, but so too was the despair that lay just behind the curtain; a dark cloud that never seemed to part. And as she gazed back at him, a smile adorning her face, he saw the light break through for the very first time. And he couldn't bring himself to look away. No, instead he felt a sudden...yearning; a yearning for something more. Unlike anything he'd felt before.

What was happening to him? It couldn't possibly be that...

“If that's the case, there’s just one more order of business before I send you on your way.” His thoughts were broken when Maria chose to break their silence. He was going off of observation, but it seemed as if a similar indecision was affecting her as well.

“Oh, Maria. It’s almost as if you don’t want me to leave.” He said the first thing that came to mind, masking it with humor in order to throw away suspicion. Judging from the amused sound she made, it worked.

“How very astute you are. Come with me.” She ordered before turning to make her way towards the entrance of the Research Hall, beckoning for Zoran to follow her as he watched her walk away. Soon the two were at the precipice of another staircase, with the hunter sighing in slight frustration.

“You know, if it’s really so much of a nuisance, I can carry you down.” She offered in a mocking manner, taking notice of his irritation.

“I think I’ll manage.” He said in response, doing little to hide his amusement.

“As you wish.” She replied before beginning her descent, leaving Zoran to follow her while supporting himself against the railing. The two then entered an elevator that led to the upper levels of the building, exiting and moving through a narrow passageway towards the next floor.

“Just around the corner here.” She said to him while pointing to her left, prompting him to follow her to a door he had left unopened during his exploration of the facility. Maria dug out a key and unlocked the door, opening it up to reveal a wide room with several tubs lining the walls, with wooden panels set up around them; no doubt to provide some semblance of privacy.

“What is the meaning of this?” He asked in bewilderment.

“This is where we would take the patients that showed the most promise, instructing them to listen closely to the distant sounds in their minds so my staff had an opportunity to properly sanitate them. Had to fight tooth and nail to get this room set up.” She revealed, looking straight ahead rather then at him.

“Alright, by why are _we_ here?” He asked, still puzzled by why she had brought him here.

“I’m sure you know the answer to that.” She replied and soon Zoran realized the answer.

“Oh, come on.” He said with a slight chuckle.

“I’m sure the beasts outside won’t mind that you look like you’ve been frolicking in a burning field, but I think we can both agree you can benefit from a proper bath.” She explained to him, though he found himself unable to argue with her. He did not remember the last time he had properly bathed.

“I can’t say that sounds like a bad idea.” He acknowledged, finding himself eager to begin.

“Wonderful.” Maria said before making her way to a side room. “Pick out a spot and wait. I’ll only be a moment.” She ordered before disappearing into the next room, leaving him with the opportunity to explore the area.

It was much cleaner than the rest of the hall, though with the poor lighting, he could scarcely make out any details. As he picked out a location in the middle of the right side, Maria reappeared from around the corner, carrying a pail of steaming water and a jug.

“Here we are.” She stated as she set down the two items on the floor next to the tub. “I’m certain you can handle it from here. I need to go run a quick errand.” She said to him before turning to exit the enclosed area and close the door behind her, leaving Zoran alone with the pail of water. He was unsure what she could possibly need to do, but he cast this thought from his mind.

Setting his cane of to the side, he set about lighting a candle that was resting on a nearby table with a match, granting himself some much-needed light. He then set about removing his tattered garb, placing it on a bench by the door and moving towards the tub, carefully setting himself down so as to avoid reigniting the slight pain in his leg.

Taking the jug set out for him, he dipped it into the pail of water and poured its contents over his head, savoring the relieving feeling of clean water on his skin that he had not felt in so long. Noticing a bar of soap on a nearby table, he took it in one hand and proceeded to carefully scrub himself clean, washing himself off with the jug every once in a while.

This continued for quite some time, until the amount of water in the pail was running low and Zoran was finally content with himself. Feeling more rejuvenated then he had been in ages, he finally exited the tub; grabbing a nearby towel to dry himself off. Turning back towards where he had left his garb, he quickly noticed that the clothing awaiting him were not the same ones he had left there.

Reaching up and taking hold of one of the new items of clothing, he held it up to find a garb adorned with various brass trinkets, as well as a plain undershirt. After a moment of indecision, he proceeded to dress himself, finding that the items fit perfectly; much to his surprise. He also took the three vials that he had found next to them, quickly placing them in his bag.

Grabbing his cane and exiting the stall, he found Maria sitting on a bench on the other side of the room, in the process of reading a book before being interrupted by his appearance. Or rather, his anticipated appearance, judging from the smile on her face.

“Everything turn out okay?” She asked him, eyeing him up and down.

“Dandy.” Was all he said in response. Holding onto her book, she made her way over to him, not paying any attention to his disapproving frown.

“Don’t give me that look. Were you really so attached to that old garb of yours?” She asked as she approached.

“That makes _two_ jackets now, Maria.” He reminded her, though all this did was cause her to chuckle.

“On the contrary, I do believe this makes up for the first one. I’ll get back to you if I find another set lying around.” She countered, stopping just in front of him.

“What…is this exactly?” He asked, still unsure of where exactly she had gotten this.

“That is my old garb. It was assigned to me when I first enlisted under Gehrman; who advised me to avoid wearing my traditional attire for the time being because it may…upset some of his students.” She explained, as Zoran looked up at her in disbelief.

“You held on to it all this time?” He asked in amazement.

“Truth be told, I wasn’t sure why. I outgrew it long ago, yet for whatever reason couldn’t bring myself to get rid of it. I had an aching suspicion it may prove useful one day.” As Maria spoke, it was then Zoran seemed to remember that she was almost a head taller than he was, forcing him to slightly tilt his head back to be able to look her in the eye.

“Maria, I…I can’t take this.” He said to her, even though he was flattered at the offering.

“Oh, nonsense. You will make better use of it then I. It’s yours now.” She reaffirmed her position, leaving him with no retort. Seeing no other way to change her mind, he decided to learn more about his new garments.

“These trinkets. Is there any purpose to them?” He said while pointing to the various piece of metal strewn across his chest-plate.

“Not exactly, but some believed that they would help ward off beast-blood during the hunt. They didn’t have any proof for it of course, but it brought a sense of comfort for them. I suppose it became customary overtime.” She answered before tilting her head slightly to the side, as if she were curious about something. “If you don’t mind me asking, did you not have a uniform back home?” She inquired, prompting him to snicker.

“I did, but I had to leave it behind. Wasn’t exactly the brightest idea to ride across the steppes in full uniform, especially when we weren’t on the best of terms with the other hosts. Simply wearing the hat risked me being picked off from a mile away.” He revealed, chuckling along with her at his exaggeration.

“If you so wish, you’re free to go now. But I would recommend you take a little time to make sure you’re back to full health before returning to the Tombs.” She told him, leaving him cold at the thought of fighting that watchdog again. From the beginning he saw little worth in trudging through that accursed dungeon, especially with the minimal rewards he got from attempting it in the first place.

“You know, on second thought, I think I won’t go back to that labyrinth for a while. It is a silly place.” He said to her, his humorous spin hiding a genuine dread to return to those forsaken depths.

“Oh. Well, in any case, do try to avoid any unnecessary trouble. My generosity does have it’s limits.” She warned him, though it didn’t come across as vexing.

“Duly noted.” He remarked in response before turning towards the door, with his host following in short order. The two proceeded to take the elevator up in relative silence, exiting into what was once an operating room before turning to face each other one more time.

“I thank you yet again for your hospitality. It’s been a pleasure.” He told her with a light bow.

“Pleasure was all mine. Godspeed.” She said in response. He then turned to leave for the elevator that would take him to the bottom floor, finding that it was still there waiting for him. “Oh, and Zoran.” He stopped his retreat and turned to face her, finding her standing in the same spot and seeming at odds at what exactly she wanted to say.

“You don’t need to hide anything. Not here. Not from me.”

Whatever it was he wanted to say was caught on his tongue, leaving him bereft of speech. Eventually, he settled on an acknowledging nod, receiving one in kind before finally entering the elevator. As he exited the room that Adeline once occupied, he looked up to see Maria ascending the staircase to her tower, casting a smile at him as she did. Looking to the side in light embarrassment, he turned towards the staircase that led to a lantern. Raising his hand towards it, he began the process of being transported back to the Hunter’s Dream, grinning like a complete fool.

Unbeknownst to him, a figure had appeared in the upstairs doorway, looking on as he faded away. His expression was hardened, not wanting to believe what he had just witnessed. He had his suspicions from the very beginning, but opted to grant himself some time to confirm his hypothesis, rather then casting judgement prematurely. But there was no doubt in his mind anymore.

“Taken by the Nightmare, are you?” He exclaimed to a now empty room, gripping his curved blade as a plan formed in his head.

“Then you leave me no choice.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *Author's Note*: Kept you waiting, huh?
> 
> Here you have the reason I started the re-write in the first place, which is that Zoran is in fact a Cossack. I originally conceived this idea as an explanation as to why he was as skilled in battle as he was, but upon further reflection, figured that I could use it to add even more flavor to his character. His original backstory I thought was relatively simple and not very in-depth, so I focused on giving him a fleshed-out origin. Not wanting to leave Maria out in the cold, she received an expanded origin as well, detailing both how she met Gehrman and her life in Cainhurst Castle. 
> 
> This did require me to do a buttload of research in order to do this, which is partly why it took me so long to release this. Here's some of what I found...
> 
> \- The host Zoran originates from are known as the Kuban Cossacks, the second largest host behind the Don Cossacks. They are the remnants of the Zaporozhian Cossacks, who were disbanded by Catherine the Great in 1775. In his case, he lived in a stanista called Batalpashinskaya, which today is known as the city of Cherkessk. His mother originates from Georgia, which by know is part of the Russian Empire.
> 
> \- In the context of this story, Yharnam is located on the border of Bohemia and as such, was once one of the many kingdoms under the banner of the Holy Roman Empire. After the Napoleonic Wars, it came under control of the Hapsburgs and the nobility aimed to gain their independence from them; forging alliances with like-minded kingdoms such as the Free City of Cracow in order to rebel against the Crown in the midst of a wave of revolutions that swept Europe in 1848. Yharnam managed to gain it's independence during this time.
> 
> \- The choir Zoran was a part of is the famed Kuban Cossack Choir, which still exists to this day. Despite this, the song he sings in this chapter is a Georgian folk song by the name of "Didavoi Nana", which has the singer speaking with the guitar-like instrument they're playing and lamenting that they can't escape their problems, even contemplating taking their own life. 
> 
> \- If you're curious as to what Zoran looks like, his appearance is based on a portrait of a young Cossack by the Russian realist painter Vasily Ivanovich Surikov. You should be able to find it by searching his name and "Young Cossack".
> 
> Even if you've read this story already, read on. I made quite a few changes in the later chapters in order to let the story flow better. I spent over two months on getting them in the best shape I could, so I would greatly appreciate it if you could point out any grammatical errors that may have slipped through the cracks.
> 
> Enjoy! And sorry it took so long.


	7. Die Blüten tät ich sammeln

Zoran wandered through the streets of Old Yharnam with a calmness that was inappropriate for the location surrounding him. The town, long ago abandoned by humans, was now home only to beasts, who's snarls and growls could be heard from every corner. The stench of burning flesh lingered throughout the city, a remnant of the desperate campaign enacted by Laurence to contain the spread of the beastly scourge and to avoid widespread panic in the rest of Yharnam.

Clouds of billowing smoke were a common sight in the streets, a perfect source of cover for the various beasts that still lingered there, waiting for their prey to come close enough to strike. What was originally a place of constant danger and fear had turned into a place where Zoran occasionally went to collect his thoughts.

He had managed to manufacture a ceasefire of sorts with the town's beastly inhabitants, so they would no longer obstruct his path during his time there. He had coated his attire in the ashes left over from the blaze that enveloped Old Yharnam, which had given the beasts an abnormal fear of flame. Recognizing the scent of the ashes, most of the town's beastly inhabitants had ceased their constant attacks on him, which Zoran could only be content with. He could not bring himself to kill them any longer, not after he had learned the truth.

It had been some time since he was released from Maria's care and during that time, he decided to clean up a few loose ends. The watchdog that had wounded him had been slain, thanks in no small part to the technique she had taught him. After this escapade had concluded, Zoran chose to explore Yharnam for a bit; going of the beaten path to see if he had missed anything. But by now, the city was all but desolate. The silence weighed down on him more and more the longer he stayed out, leaving him longing for any sort of company.

He couldn't help but think back to his last meeting with Maria. Really, the majority of it had consisted of meaningless chatter, but after dozens of meetings devoted almost exclusively to the events of his hunt, it was something that the both of them desperately needed. Just harmless talk. Nothing more, nothing less. But the moment she asked him about the mask, he had decided that the time had finally come to confront that fear that had followed him since childhood. He had long considered showing vulnerability as being a sign of weakness, one that would expose him to endless ridicule. He had been ashamed of the times he had broken down in front of her and especially of the fact that he had to turn to her for help to begin with. He was supposed to be a warrior and there he was, weeping like a child reeling from a bad dream.

But she had laid witness to his lowest points and yet, she took them in stride. She did not shame him. She did not judge. No instead, she had been comforting and understanding, letting him know that what he shouldn't be afraid of being vulnerable. And that bottling up his pain and pretending it didn't exist would only make things worse.

And after it came off, he felt...liberated. Like a mighty battle he had been fighting with his inner self had finally concluded. But other then that, he felt a newfound connection with Maria; one that he hadn't experienced with any other. The fact he had put himself in a position where he was completely defenseless, something he hadn't done even in a place that was supposed to be his sanctuary, spoke volumes about just how deep his trust in her now stemmed. And he found himself wanting more. To find a way to convey his gratitude to her in some form.

As he wandered the streets, casting glances at the various beasts who seemed content to simply rest by the numerous fires that somehow remained in the town, Zoran eventually found his way to what he assumed was once the market square. The area appeared to be devoid of life, but the hunter entered the square with a degree of caution.

The first thing he noticed was that the ground was littered with shards of broken glass and that the various shops that once operated here were irreversibly damaged, both by the claws of beasts and the flame of man. As he progressed further, he came upon a stall that was surrounded by a large pool of dried blood and well as what seemed like hundreds of shattered bottles.

Inspecting one of the bottles, Zoran immediately recognized it as a blood vial. Looking at the display in front of him, he concluded that after the outbreak within the city, the infected citizenry had raided the market square and had focused most of their efforts on obtaining more of the Healing Church's patented blood, in a desperate attempt to cure their ailments. Little did they know that their efforts only hastened the transformation, resulting in dozens, if not hundreds of people being transformed into flesh hungry beasts.

Out of the corner of his eye, Zoran could see a handful of bottles that had escaped the destruction, still orderly arranged. Approaching them, he picked one up and managed to unscrew the cork, taking a brief sniff of the substance inside the bottle. He immediately recognized it as a common alcoholic beverage served in the pubs of surrounding towns, one that had grown rare in Yharnam. The blood was said to be so intoxicating, that citizens began to consume it in greater quantities then alcohol, which caused the stocks within the city to suffer as a result. It came as no surprise that it was sparred the wrath of the beasts.

Suddenly, Zoran felt a familiar scent, which emanated from one of the bottles in a nearby venue. He had consumed strong drinks on several occasions, but this scent was not one of the beverages he had drunk with his comrades after a successful campaign. This was something else, something much dearer to him. Picking out the bottle from which the scent originated from, Zoran took another sniff to confirm his suspicions.

_Kvass_. Against all odds, the very same drink that accompanied almost any social gathering back home, here in the middle of Old Yharnam. Zoran could hardly believe his luck. This had been the first trace of his native culture he had found in his time here.

Desperate to rid himself of the taste of blood for even a few moments, Zoran was ready to take a swing from the bottle right then and there, before stopping just as the bottle was about to touch his lips. He was uncertain how long ago the ravaging of Old Yharnam had occurred, but with a drink like this, it was best not to take risks. Besides, the presence of this drink meant that a similar, more up-to-date type must exist in the city at large.

Placing the bottle back where he had found it, Zoran turned to leave the market square and moved to make his way towards the surface as a plan began to form in his head.

….

Maria exited the elevator from the upper level of the hall, with a tray carrying a freshly brewed pot of tea she had prepared in the abandoned kitchen on the fourth floor. Since Zoran left, she took it upon herself to do a little house-keeping, replacing the table she had destroyed during their last encounter, bringing back a tall candelabrum to aid with her reading and reorganizing her disgruntled pile of books around her chair.

But through it all, she felt a surge of guilt every time she had to step over a long dead body of one of her patients and she decided she shouldn’t leave them lying on the ground like trash. It had been a long and arduous process, but by the end of it, every one of her patients were lying side by side on the bottom floor; resting on a blanket with a cloth covering their head and their hands folded across their chest, each of them holding on to a flower she had picked for them. She prayed for them, wishing that they would finally find comfort and peace. Peace that she had long denied them.

After she had finished, she very quickly realized just how lonely the Hall now seemed. But she chose not to dwell on it, opting to instead do something to keep her occupied.

She took the time to clean the numerous bloodstains off her garb and as she left them out to dry, she decided treated herself to a bath. It was so strange. She used to take things like regular bathing for granted, but doing so now seemed…invigorating. The sensations were exactly what she had felt before she fell into this nightmare, but after not feeling them for so long, it seemed like a completely new experience.

But the silence of the building was deafening and she found herself wishing she had something to alleviate it. She tried some breathing exercises that Yamamura had taught her once upon a time and even tried humming a tune that popped into her head, but it was of little use. And it was then she realized something.

She missed Zoran.

Discussing events that weren’t related to their respective duties had been oddly relieving, a welcome change from the seemingly never-ending descriptions of death and misery that seemed to plague their lives. Having been so focused on having him confront his demons, she had forgotten to give him a chance remember events in his life that he looked back on fondly; to remind him that he had been part of the hunt, not one with it. But other then being an effective way of calming him down, speaking with him was…fun. He had always been good at telling stories, but he was at his best when he was describing exploits in his younger years; not being bogged down by the emotional scars his time as a soldier and a hunter had left on him. She scarcely recalled a time when she had enjoyed another's company so, when she did not feel pressured to hide parts of herself away in an attempt to please others. Everything just flowed naturally between them, jumping from topic to topic and never growing bored. It was something she didn't even realize she was missing.

And then, he did something that she didn't expect. He agreed to take of his mask. Oh, how proud she had been of him when he allowed her to remove it. As mundane of an action it was, it was a monumental progression both for him and for their relations going forward. A sign that he has accepted himself for who he is and that he trusted her enough that he would share it. And it felt to her as if a new link had been established between them.

Passing by the lamp that served as his link to the Dream, she softly smiled at the tiny pale creatures that frolicked around it, who it seemed had taken a particular liking to her. Almost as if they recognized her. After she had finally reached the gates of her sanctuary, she entered the supposedly empty hall, expecting it to be completely vacant. Only to be pleasantly surprised to see it was not.

Zoran reclined in her usual seat reading a black-covered book, seemingly unaware she had entered. From her distance, she could not make out the title of what he was reading, but she was sure it was not a piece he had brought for her. But she did notice one thing.

He wasn’t wearing the mask anymore.

“Welcome back.” She said, causing him to jump slightly in his seat and scramble to hide his book.

“Oh, hello.” He greeted her as he recovered from his blunder. “Do forgive the intrusion. The hall was empty when I got here and I wasn’t sure when you would be back. So, I let myself in.” He explained, though this revelation only heightened her amusement with him.

“No need for apologies. You’re free to come by whenever you wish.” She reassured him, before remembering the purpose of his last visit. “How is your leg?” She inquired, seeing no sign of injury on him.

“I do believe it’s better now. It flares up every once in a while, but I do believe the worst is behind me.” He answered, smiling all the while.

“Well, that’s good to hear.” She said in acknowledgement, content that her treatment seemed to have worked. Deciding to test the waters a bit, she prepared another question. “Have anything else you want looked at?” She asked with a playful smile, with the hunter smiling back in kind.

“Not today, I’m afraid.” He answered, not missing a beat.

“The usual, then?” She followed up, still sporting the same smile.

“If that’s alright by you.” He said in response.

“Off course. Have a seat.” She instructed him, moving towards her usual spot. As he took his seat, she set her tray on her new table and set about pouring its contents into her cup. “My apologies. If I knew you were coming, I’d have made some more.” She told him as she poured a spoon of sugar into her cup.

“That’s quite alright. I have a substitute.” He said as he pulled out a pipe and carefully cleaned it with a piece of cloth. She looked on as he did this, having never actually seen someone smoke before; seeing as how the practice had grown out of practice overtime. As he prepared to place a sort of dried leaf into its chamber, he noticed her observing him, stopping the process. “You don’t mind, do you?” He asked, taking her action as a sign not to continue.

“No, by all means. Help yourself.” She assured him, prompting him to continue the process. Taking the pipe in his mouth, he pulled out a box of matches; lighting one of them and hovering it over the chamber.

As he began taking puffs of the resulting smoke, she sat down in her chair, taking a sip from her cup of tea as the two of them settled in. It hadn’t been terribly long since they’ve had a proper session, but it already felt alien to her after their last encounter.

“So, what brings you here today?” She asked to start them off, leaning forward in preparation for his latest story.

…

Zoran's back was pressed against the wall, his grip on his axe and pistol tight as he waited for the opportune moment to move. His attire was stained in the blood of the beasts that had barred his path, with each kill seemingly invigorating him and giving him the strength to move forward. But still, he had to remain cautious. The rogue hunter at the top of the distant tower watched his every move and was waiting for him to so much as stick his head out so he could mow him down in a hail of bullets, just as he had many times before. But he had managed to find a way around that gave him ample cover from his relentless onslaught; now all he had to do was make it through to the end.

Taking in a deep breath, Zoran stepped out from behind the wall and leapt down to the ground below, just as quickly rushing for another source of cover as he heard the bullets crashing into the wall and ground around him. Once they ceased and the hunter had to reload, he ran as fast as he could towards the other side of the square he found himself in. Another hunter used to block his path here and pursued him relentlessly, chasing him across the narrow structures above the dilapidated church beyond his current position. His pursuit ended once he lost his balance and fell to the ground below; he was left defenseless as a result and was torn apart by the beasts he was supposedly protecting, with Zoran unable to do anything but look on in horror. He was later ambushed and though he was able to fight them off, their poisonous bite ended up claiming his life before he could make any real progress into the city.

Zoran knew he had to deal with the one at the top of the tower; he was an incredibly dangerous obstacle and would hinder his progress indefinitely. And as horrid as it was, the fate of his companion proved he was a fool. He was wasting his breath defending these creatures, who would tear him apart on a whim if they got the chance. Regardless of who they were before, keeping them alive did more harm then good.

Finding a ladder at the base of the tower the hunter had taken as a vantage point, Zoran began to climb. As he reached the top, he spotted his target, who was crouching just by the gattling gun he had used to fire at him, no doubt trying to spot him down below. He approached the man as quietly as he could, paying heed to the fact his shadow could end up giving away his position. Gripping his extended axe with both hands, he continued his approach, yet as he got closer, he could hear a faint noise; almost like some sort of machine was starting up...

Suddenly, his target spun around and thrust his right arm forward. Zoran barely had a moment to react before a massive burst of pain erupted in his chest, sending him flying back several meters. Landing just at the edge of the narrow roof they found themselves on, Zoran rolled of to his right as his adversary attempted to stab him with his weapon. Ignoring the pain in his ribs, Zoran got back on his feet and picked up his fallen axe, which he used to deflect the Hunter's attempt to skewer him with the blade of his unorthodox weapon.

Going on the offensive, Zoran attempted to strike his opponent while his guard was broken, but he had recovered far quicker than he had anticipated and had managed to gain some distance. Zoran attempted to take the opportunity to repair the damage done to his ribs, but before he had even plunged the Vial into his thigh, his assailant had fired off a shot from his blunderbuss, causing him to stumble backwards and drop the vial in the process. The Hunter followed up with an additional shot, but this time Zoran was able to react in time, quickly dashing towards him. As he did this, he activated his axe's transformation, extending it's reach significantly and managed to strike the older hunter in the chest. Not letting up, he then swung his axe two times in a horizontal motion, which his opponent was barely able to evade and followed up with an overhead swing which caused him to dodge to his left.

"Is it the blood, or are you just raving mad?" His opponent suddenly questioned him.

"I would ask the same, but I already know the answer." Zoran quickly retaliated, before spinning himself around, axe outstretched. Unfortunately, the brief moment he needed to recover his senses gave his opponent an opportunity to regain the offensive, charging towards him with his blade. He was just able to stop him from hitting his mark, the two locked in a standstill as the pommel of the axe was trapped in the wedge between the Driver's blade.

"Have you ever spared a thought to the nature of the beasts you kill?" The Hunter said as he continued pushing his weapon towards Zoran's chest.

"I know what they are." Zoran fired back as he pushed the blade away from his chest.

"And yet you still hunt them? Tell me? What difference is there between killing a beast and murdering your fellow man?" Their standstill continued, with the hunter exhibiting an extraordinary strength despite his apparent age. 

"The difference-is that they are driven only by hunger, by instinct. If left alone, they will continue to kill without rhyme or reason. And you're a fool if you're unable to see that!" Despite struggling to hold him back, Zoran rebuked him with as much force as he could muster. Despite this, his opponent's expression did not shift.

"Oh, but I do. Which is why I must stop you..."

A sudden pain erupted in Zoran's stomach as his opponent managed to fire of a shot from his blunderbass with his free hand, causing his grip on the axe to loosen and allowing the Driver to impale him through the shoulder. Letting out a howl at the searing pain he now felt all over his body, he narrowly ducked the hunter's attempt to take of his head before again being off guard by a knee to his stomach, taking the air out of his lungs. His enemy's boot connected with his face as he was stumbling back and knocked him to the floor, the limited space on the rooftop leaving almost no room for him to flee.

"I should think you still have dreams? Well, next time you dream, give some thought to the hunt, and its purpose." He said, priming his weapon to deliver the finishing blow.

In desperation, Zoran pulled out the weapon Gilbert had given him and pointed it at his adversary, a torrent of flame being unleashed the moment he gripped the handle. The hunter screamed as he was engulfed in the flames, flailing his arms around as he tried to put them out. As the fire spread across the arm he used to hold his weapon, Zoran snapped out of his stupor and snapped to his feet, desperately reaching out to the man...

BOOM!

He shielded his eyes from the ensuing explosion, coughing as a thick cloud of smoke enveloped the rooftop. It eventually dissipated to reveal the old hunter lying on his back, struggling to draw breath: his weapon arm had been blown off below the elbow and his skin was charred, the stench of his burning flesh making Zoran feel sick to the stomach. In between labored breaths, he somehow managed to look up at Zoran before weakly stating a warning.

"It's you… You're the beast… Think about what you're doing! It's utter madness…" Upon speaking those last three words, he desperately sucked in a few more breaths before going still. 

Zoran's eyes remained on his opponent's mangled body, the pain from his injuries all but forgotten as he placed a hand over his masked mouth and sunk to his knees, realizing what he had just done.

He killed a man. Not a beast or murderous creature, but a human being, still in full control of his actions and opposing him based only on beliefs. Even with Gascoigne, he could rationalize his actions; he had lost control and was a danger to everyone around him, with no hope of him ever regaining his sentience. He had to die and if he didn't do it, someone inevitably would have to. But this...this was exactly what he hoped he would never have to do again. So why is it he only felt this regret now, after cutting down dozens of beasts and infected men without so much as sparing a glance at their corpses?

He never even stopped to think who his victims had been. Where they came from and what their names were. And what had led them to the state they found themselves in now.

Was he really any less of a monster then they?

….

Zoran's story had given Maria pause. Though she had long ago retired from the Hunt, she had never questioned for a second that the beasts that plagued Yharnam had to be killed. Even after the horrific things she had witnessed in the Fishing Hamlet, her view on beasts had seldom changed. She did not spare them a second thought as she cut them down, one after another, seemingly forgetting that they were all humans once, who had put their faith in the very people she was killing them for.

"This hunter. Did you ever discover his name?" Maria asked.

"I brought the badge he had carried back to the Dream, where I managed to catch Gehrman rummaging in the Workshop. He told me that he had been a rather odd fellow as far as Hunters go, uncommonly kind and yet dreadfully foolish. Though nobody really knew what had happened to him after his time as a Hunter, he was once known as Djura."

"Do you still think him mad?"

"I can't really say. I once thought that the beasts out there were mere shells of what they once were, that there was no way to bring them back to the light. But after what happened with Ludwig, I… just don't know what to believe anymore." He answered honestly.

"I understand the complexity of the dilemma you face, but you should not let it impede you. No matter what the beasts were once, they will not spare you the same consideration you do them. Avoid them if you can, but if one of them forces your hand, do not hesitate to strike it down. That is all the advice I can offer you." Zoran silently looked at Maria as she spoke, having concluded his smoking some time ago. He took a moment to consider her words before nodding his understanding.

"Was there anything else you wanted to discuss?" Maria asked, a small part of her wishing to keep her visitor here a little while longer.

"Actually, there was something else I hoped to share with you." Zoran answered after a short silence, seemingly embarrassed.

"Oh. And what would that be?" She inquired.

"It's best I just show you. Please, sit." He motioned for her to take a seat next to him on the stairwell.

Looking back at him in slight surprise, she proceeded to place her cup back on the table before complying with his request. She watched intently as he reached into his bag, not sure what to expect. Much to her surprise, all he pulled out was a pair of rather plain bottles.

"What is this?" She asked, slightly taken aback.

"A small part of my heritage. Back home, we would call it _kvass_, a beverage that is derived from the fermentation of rye bread. It was something that would accompany almost any social gathering, big or small." Zoran explained, before handing her a bottle, which she apprehensively accepted.

Holding it in her hands, she was unsure of what his intention was for sharing this with her. Trying to hand it back to him, he held out his hand in front of him to signify he wanted her to keep it.

"Go on. Try it." He insisted.

Looking at him with widened eyes, Maria turned her attention to trying to unscrew the cork from the bottle, which proved more difficult then she anticipated. Eventually removing it, she recoiled slightly at the smell that came from the bottle, looking over at her visitor to see he had his own prepared.

"I don’t believe I’ve ever had a drink like this. Are you certain this is still safe to consume?" She asked him.

"I believe so. As long as it’s kept at room temperature, it should be fine." He replied, before holding out his own bottle for a small toast. “Na zdorov’ya.” He said, a phrase she distinctly remembered her mother saying at some points.

“To health.” She said in response, clinking their bottles together.

Hesitantly pressing the bottle to her lips, she took a few sips of the liquid inside, finding it to be slightly sweet, but also somewhat sour. After she had swallowed it, she looked to the side to see Zoran in the process of taking a long swing from his bottle, appearing to be deriving great pleasure from it as well. After several seconds, he set the bottle on one of the steps, a mix of relief and nostalgia visible on his face. Maria could only look on dumbfounded at the display before her.

"Doesn’t quite compare to a home-made batch, but I'll gladly take it over anymore blood." He said, causing a small smirk to appear on Maria's lips. The sour taste of the drink still lingered, causing her to slightly pucker her face as she struggled to adapt to its flavor. Despite trying her hardest to appear composed, she heard Zoran slightly snicker before he reached into his bag once again.

"Here. Something to help with the aftertaste." He said as he offered her what appeared to be a thick, rectangular pastry. Accepting the offering, she observed its richly detailed patterns, as well as a writing in a language that was indiscernible to her. before taking a bite from the pastry, finding that it also contained a jam filling. She soon found herself relishing its sweetness, with the tiny treat being the first thing she had eaten in what felt like decades.

As she finished it off, she looked over to see Zoran had already taken out a second one for her to take, clearly taking notice of her enjoyment of them. Not saying a word, she took it from him and took a bite, finding it even more delicious then the first.

“Gods, these are delectable.” She said as she held her half-eaten treat.

“Well, well. Someone has a sweet tooth…” Zoran noted as he helped himself to one as well, clearly amused by her enjoyment of the pastry.

"What are they? A local recipe?" She asked him, who appeared greatly amused by her reaction to the treat.

"Oh, no. This is a common treat from where I come from, but this recipe is unique to a city outside of our borders. They were our main source of arms, but their merchants always brought offerings of containers we could use to boil water and their own unique “pryaniks”, as we called them." He looked down at the pastry in his hands with an odd look, almost as if he were longing for something.

“I remember saying that as long as they kept supplying us with these, I would happily serve the Tsar until I died.”

As pleasant as his offering of food and drink was, she somehow knew there was another reason he had organized this small exchange.

“Why did you ask me here, Zoran?” She asked, with the hunter looking away from his treat with a slightly nervous expression.

“I…very much enjoyed our last discussion.” He admitted, with Maria raising an inquisitive brow as she realized what his intention was. “And I was hoping we could…try something like it again?” He asked in light embarrassment, bringing a smile to her face.

“I’d be delighted to.” She said, signifying her interest. “Did you have something specific in mind?”

“Not particularly, no.” He admitted, before seemingly throwing out an idea at random. “Do you have a favorite book?” He said and almost immediately, a certain story crossed her mind.

“I can’t say it’s my favorite, but there was this one story that really left an impression on me.” She said, fragments of the piece returning to her.

“It’s a short piece about a robed traveler, who embarks on a journey to reach the crevice of a distant mountain. As he traverses the ruins of an ancient civilization, he comes across another traveller much like himself and without saying a word to each-other, the two of them continue onwards together. They overcome many challenges, remaining together until they finally reach the base of the mountain. But as they slowly approach the peak, they collapse into the snow in exhaustion, seeming to be on the brink of death.” She recalled the general concept as best as she could, until she got to the part that had truly solidified it in her memory.

“And then, as if by divine intervention, they get back up; soaring to the top and stepping into the light.” She concluded with a smile.

“Seems like a relatively simple story.” Zoran said, appearing puzzled by her fascination with the book.

“In the beginning, I thought so too. But there was something oddly beautiful about it all; starting from simple beginnings and slowly working your way towards a penultimate goal. And then…it just ends. As if you were one of hundreds all heading for the exact same destination. But in the end, it showed me that everyone’s journey is unique in its own way, whether we choose to walk it alone or to share it with another.” She explained, feeling a strange urge to revisit that world at least one more time.

“And you? Surely your people had their fare share of tales and songs.” She asked him, genuinely curious as to what sort of tale that would captivate his interest.

“Well, there was this one story I remember being very fond of when I was a child.” He answered.

“What’s it about?”

“A young boy born with a pair of horns, who happens upon a captive girl that he helps escape from the castle they’re both imprisoned in. As it seems freedom is within their grasp, the girl is reclaimed by her mother, the queen of the castle who wishes to use her body to reclaim her youth. The boy goes back to save her and although he manages to defeat the Queen, he is rendered unconscious as the castle begins to crumble around him.” As he summarized the tale, Maria noticed a slight oddity in the tale.

“And the girl? What happens to her?” She asked

“With her dying breath, the Queen reveals that her daughter could never leave the castle. But after she is restored, she carries the boy to a boat and sends him away from the castle, though she herself remains behind.” Zoran concluded his summary with a small smile.

“How noble of her.” She stated, more then a little saddened by the turn of events.

“And so, I thought too, when my mother read it to me for the first time. Yet no matter how old I got, it’s impact never faltered. It’s always the simplest tales that leave the greatest impression on you.” He said in reply.

“I must admit, I expected something a bit more-grand.” She said, prompting him to lightly chuckle.

“Oh, it wasn’t one of ours. My father had a habit of bringing back a keepsake for everyone of his campaigns and that book just so happened to be one of them. And when my own time came, I continued the tradition.” He explained, igniting her curiosity.

“Tell me more.”

And he did. He told of the mementos he brought back from his time fighting in Turkey and Central Asia, as well as the sights he laid witnessed to during both his campaigns and his travels across the empire. After sometime, their conversation branched off into increasingly unrelated matters.

Maria recounted a time when she fell asleep under the great tree outside the Workshop and awoke to find Gehrman awaiting her, having organized a blanket containing tea and baked goods.

Zoran told of a specific instance when he brought back his fellow hunter Eileen to Oedon Chapel, who’s refugees had discovered a checker board in the lower room and organized a small tournament after the old-man claimed that no-one there could best him at the game. They invited the two hunters to join, or rather, the little girl pestered him and “Aunt Eileen” into playing.

Then she remembered a time when she, Gehrman and Ludwig surprised Laurence on the eve of his birthday. He had just recently returned from a formal gathering in the Grand Cathedral where practically all members of the Church had gathered to give him well wishes and to hear his address; needless to say, he was exhausted. They had foreseen this and came to his quarters so the four of them could have a simple gathering, having tea along with a pie Maria had prepared for the occasion.

He then proceeded to describe his loyal messenger’s strange interest in adornment, paying specific attention to a time when he tested the waters and brought them back a miniature bowl to see if they would accept it. And his reaction to how proud they were of their new headwear earned him a passing scowl from Gehrman, who he had awoken from his slumber.

As the topics of conversation grew more and more absurd, Maria recalled a certain merchant that Gehrman had forged an agreement with during a time when the hunters were unable to receive their materials by conventional means. He had been a sketchy fellow, but he provided them with essential supplies for their duties; albeit at exuberant prices. The strangest part was that he just up and vanished one day, though by that time his services were no longer required.

Somehow, their talk led to Zoran describing a time he came upon a strange woman sitting on a bench in the Cathedral Ward, seemingly not at all concerned about her surroundings. After refusing his offer to escort her to Oedon Chapel, she invited him to sit with her; talking at length about how she knew she was fated to die that day and how knowing the value of the life she would soon lose made the whole thing easier to bear.

She offered a few words of encouragement to him, telling him that as easy as it was to get lost in the misfortunes of life, it’s even easier to forget the things that make it worth living. After their exchange had concluded and she bade him farewell and fortune, he asked for her name.

With a pleasant smile she replied, “Teleute”.

Her message helped him regain some semblance of hope, all the while a feeling remained that he and the strange woman would meet again one day. But before then, he chose to spend some time revisiting the few pleasant memories he had of his time as a hunter.

“And it still didn’t attack you?” She asked him as he described a surprisingly friendly creature he encountered in his travels.

“No. It took more then a little time, but he eventually accepted my offering. I would return to him every once in a while, feeding him scraps of meat and giving him a bit of company. And I’m happy to report that I managed to get him flying again.” Zoran smiled as he gave an account of his odd friendship with a wounded crow he had found in Hemwick Charnel Lane, with Maria finding herself doing so along with him.

“Do you still visit him?” She asked.

“Every once in a while, yes. He’s more then capable of fending for himself now, but if I ever find myself in the area, all I have to do is call his name and he would come flying over.” He answered, prompting Maria to snicker.

“Wish the ones in the upper levels were like that. We’ve been trying to get rid of those pests for months to no avail.” She revealed, remembering the infestation of carrion crows that had befallen the Research Hall.

“As it happens, I took care of them some time ago.” He told her, with Maria deducing that he had slain them as he ascended to the top of the tower.

“Did you? Oh, thank heavens. I remember that the noise was unbearable.” She commended him, even though them being gone served little purpose now.

“Frankly, I’m surprised they even managed to gain a foothold with you on watch.” He said just before finishing his cup of tea, which he had accepted after they ran dry of his own drink.

“I’d like to agree with you, but…they were rather high up, see.” Upon her admitting this, he lowered his cup onto its saucer and looked over to her, a mixture of surprise and amusement in his expression.

“You hunted flesh-hungry beasts every night and heights are what unnerve you?” Despite his less then subtle ribbing, she could sense a touch of fascination in his voice.

“Oh, they always have. When I was younger, the mere thought of climbing up to retrieve a book in the archives used to petrify me. It lessened as I grew older, but I never was able to fully overcome it.” This admission seemed to intrigue him.

“Perhaps that is for the best. I remember an old friend once told me that without fear in our hearts, there is little separating us from the beasts.” Maria had never thought about it that way. She had always been somewhat embarrassed of her phobia, yet never gave thought to the idea that it was helping her maintain her own humanity.

She didn’t remember the last time she’d enjoyed someone’s company so much, but in the last few hours had elicited more laughter from her then she’d experienced in the last three years. What’s more, seeing Zoran so jovial warmed her heart

Throughout their conversation, a certain suspicion lingered in the back of Maria’s mind. Zoran had made it seem that he had been happy before he had come to Yharnam, having friends and family that he had been unwilling to leave behind. Why then did he find himself before her now, so far away from home?

"Zoran, I know it isn't my place to ask, but…why exactly did you come here? To Yharnam, I mean." Her visitor looked back at her with surprise, seeming uncomfortable in discussing his past. "I understand that this is a personal matter. You do not need to answer if you do not wish to."

"No, no it's alright. Truth be told, I…don’t ever see myself returning home." He replied, with evident sorrow in his words.

"What do you mean?"

"By the time of my departure, we were but a shell of what we once were. Our freedoms had been slowly eroded and we became little more then vehicles for the Tsar’s oppression. The moment I knew we were truly lost was when we were ordered to suppress a local riot during a widespread famine, the severity of which was only amplified by the monarchy’s poor planning. I had gone on many raids prior, but with them, I could at least rationalize my actions; claiming they were the other. The enemy. But these were fellow citizens of the Empire; starving and impoverished. But despite that, I couldn’t bring myself to simply pack up and leave, to abandon the land that I had inhabited since the day I was born. Until my father fell ill.” He solemnly revealed, casting a heavy silence over the room.

“He had been battling the sickness for some time, but the famine heavily exasperated his symptoms for the next few years. We had all but given up hope, until I heard whisperings of something called "Paleblood", a substance in a distant land which was said to cure any illness. My father was far to weak to make the journey himself, so I volunteered to travel there to retrieve it. But when I suggested this to him, he pulled me aside; telling me that he would not stop me from going, but that if I must, I should take Olena with me. He saw that the Cossacks would soon be on their last legs and that there was little hope of a future there for either of us. And the first instruction he gave me was to check the local papers when I arrived here and to cast judgement for myself.” He revealed, seeming more downcast with every word.

“And what did you find?” She asked, dreading to know the answer.

“News of a cholera epidemic, which impacted the land close to my village.” He revealed, his upbeat demeanor from earlier having completely vanished. That left one more missing piece of information.

“What of your sister?” By this point, Zoran eyes were glistening with tears, leaving her with little doubt as to her fate.

“We were not aware of the plague that had befallen the city, leaving us woefully unprepared to confront it. By the time we finally arrived, the it had grown to a level no one could have anticipated, with not enough manpower to repel them." Suddenly stopping, he looked at Maria with undeniable grief in his eyes. "Olena died because of them, torn apart before my very eyes. I tried to save her, but I was simply no match for them." He revealed, with Maria finally deducing the means he had acquired the scar across his eye.

“I was trapped. My entire family was gone, my home ravaged by famine and sickness and I was alone in a foreign city, wandering the streets with little more then the clothes on my back. I meandered about for over a month, scraping by on the charity of those willing to aid me, but no real opportunity presented itself. So when one of the Church's Blood Ministers offered me a place among the town's hunters, I couldn't possibly turn down the offer. At least then I'd have some semblance of purpose again and help myself feel that she hadn't died for nothing." He turned his head away then and took out the Orthodox cross that she had seen earlier, staring at it as it lay in his open palm. It was obvious enough to her now who it's previous owner was.

"You wish that your fates had been reversed that day, don't you? That she had lived on instead of you." He didn't respond then, but she could somehow tell that those were the thoughts he had carried since she had died. She had seen it many times, where hunters had lost their friends or failed to save someone and in their grief, pondered why they continued to live when even they didn't think they deserved it. And looking at Zoran now, she could see that same sense of regret about him. 

"I had to cremate her, you know...what was left of her. The thought of burying her in this...hellscape, after she had been by my side my entire life made me feel sick. I swore that I would one day return her ashes to our homeland, but with everything that's happened, I don't...I just don't know if I'll ever..." Maria could see traces of tears in Zoran's eyes as he struggled to finish the sentence. 

"I'm sorry I... I should not have forced you to talk about this." Maria said, feeling guilty for having him relive such painful memories just to sate her own curiosity.

"Don't be. I remember that my father would always tell me is that if every fool wore a crown, we would all be kings. Shame I didn't realize what it meant until it was too late." He said, a weak smile appearing on his face. For reasons unknown to her, he suddenly pulled out what looked like a small box.

"What is that? That box in your hands." She questioned.

"Oh, this? It's but a simple music box. That little girl I mentioned before gave it to me in my first few hours on the hunt after she asked me to find her missing mother; said that it played one of her father’s favorite songs. They used it to help him remember them when he came home from the…" He paused then, as if remembering a particularly gruesome memory.

"He was a hunter, wasn't he?" Maria swiftly deduced.

"Yes."

"Did you end up finding the girl's mother?" Maria asked, already knowing the answer.

"Yes."

"And the hunter?" She continued.

"It had to be done." He said as he began to grasp the music box just a little bit tighter.

“What did you do afterwards?"

“As you know, I brought her over to the Chapel and after she found out about what happened to her mum and dad, I tried to return it to her. But she insisted that I keep it; whether she didn’t want to be reminded of their passing or if she genuinely thought it would be of help to me, I do not know. But after…that night, I almost threw it away.” His hands were visibly shaking as he finished the story.

"Why didn’t you?" Maria asked him, surprised by the tragic story accompanying such a simple item.

"I see it as a reminder of sorts. If I ever found myself lost in the bleakness of the Hunt, I just let it play; thinking about what happened to that family and what would happen if I ever lost myself to it. For a while, it was the only thing keeping me sane. At first, I found the sound it made to be rather unnerving, but it grew on me after a while."

Looking at the small box in Zoran's hands, Maria could not help but wonder how it worked.

"May I hear it?" She asked him, his gaze meeting hers for a moment as he processed her request. He then began to turn the lever on the side in a circular motion, Maria looking on with a keen interest.

Suddenly, a melody akin to a lullaby began to play, causing Maria to jump at the sudden sound. She immediately understood why Zoran had found the song unnerving, but soon she found herself entranced by the simple notes coming from the music box. She was almost disappointed when the song came to an end, Zoran looking at her with slight concern in his eyes.

"Are you alright?" He asked her.

"Yes, it's just…it has been a long time since I have heard music of any kind. Not since...well, you know." Maria explained to him.

"I see." Zoran then looked away from her, seemingly afraid to say anything else.

Suddenly, Maria had an idea. From what she understood, Zoran's original intention for asking her here was to share something about himself in a more lighthearted manner then they were accustomed to. That was until she had spoiled the moment with her question about his heritage. It seemed only fair that she gets them back on track.

"Would you care to dance?" She suddenly asked him, causing him to face her in surprise.

"Pardon?" He asked, unsure of what he just heard.

"I have said before that I left nothing of value behind in Cainhurst Castle. But there was one thing from there I still have fond memories of." Rising to her feet, she then offered her hand to Zoran. "I may not be as well-versed as I once was, but I think I can manage."

Zoran looked at her with a mixture of confusion and surprise, visibly hesitant to accept her offer. For a while, Maria was worried that she had overestimated how comfortable he was around her, but this fear subsided when he began to wind up the music box yet again. Setting it down, Zoran took her hand and followed her away from the stairs. Turning to face him, she noticed a nervous expression on his face.

"Have you done this before?" She asked him, his seemingly meager upbringing making the question necessary.

"A few times. I don't remember being particularly good at it." He admitted, which surprised her.

"Then I'm sure you understand what to do. Just follow my lead." She said, placing her hand on his shoulder while holding his outstretched hand in the other. In return, Zoran placed his hand on her waist.

The first few movements were unsurprisingly awkward, as the two tried to find a rhythm that matched the rather simple melody playing in the background; complicated further by the height difference between them. But after a while, both of them eased into the dance, gliding around the clock-tower like seasoned performers. Having grown more confident, Zoran matched Maria pace for pace, even twirling her under his arm at certain points, though he still lagged behind in terms of finesse.

Maria smiled at the absurdity of it all. When she had first awoken, the last thing she would have expected was to revisit one of the few positive aspects of her childhood, much less with the one she had spent countless hours attempting to murder. Thinking back, an outside observer could have viewed their battles as resembling a dance, mostly due to her fighting style. Part of the reason she had chosen the Rakuyo as her weapon of choice was that it complimented the graceful movements she had learned during Cainhurst's grand balls. Of course, she never told any of her fellow hunters that.

After several minutes, the music box went silent. The two hunters froze, the yellow light emanating from the Clock behind them casting a brief moment of relief from the almost constant darkness enveloping the room. Despite the bleak situation they both found themselves in, both of them had wide smiles on their faces, hesitant to break their hold on one another.

"You weren't bad at all." Maria complimented her partner, surprised by how quickly he adopted to the waltz.

"And I now understand where you learned to move the way you did. Unless Gehrman was capable of dancing with that leg of his." He joked, causing Maria to laugh slightly.

She knew it was inappropriate considering the circumstances they found themselves in, but she couldn't deny that at that moment, she felt inexplicably drawn to the man in front of her. The smell of his tobacco still lingered, mixed with the peculiar scent that she hypothesized came from his connection to the Dream. The visage he had long hid from the world was adorned with a wide smile, his once empty eyes sparkling with joy. He had come such a long way since they had first met.

Before she realized what was happening, she placed a gentle hand on his cheek, slowly bringing herself closer to him, completely enraptured.

The church bell suddenly rang out, stopping her before she got to close. Zoran had been playing along with her, also freezing upon hearing it’s toll. Whatever it was that had overtaken her, it had clearly affected him as well.

"I have kept you here too long. It's time you got going." Maria said to her visitor.

"Wait, there’s…something I forgot to mention. In the period since my last visit, I…" Zoran suddenly said, having not broken Maria's gaze for several minutes.

“I went back.”

Despite the cryptic nature of his statement, Maria immediately realized what he was referring to.

“To the Chapel, you mean?” She said in order to confirm, with Zoran lightly nodding in response.

“I remembered what you told me about trying to move past it and felt like it was a good a time as any. It took everything I had and a pain-staking amount of time, but I…laid them to rest.” He revealed, leaving Maria speechless. But this shock soon shifted into something else.

Joy.

She pulled him into an embrace, holding him close as her pride in him reached a fever-pitch. After a brief moment of surprise, she could feel Zoran returning the gesture, taking her in his arms and gripping her with equal vigor. She held the back of his head as she embraced him and as their embrace dragged on, a solitary tear trailed down her face.

“They would've been proud of you, Zoran. I'm certain of it.” She earnestly said to him and if he had a response, he did not offer one.

After staying like that for the next little while, Zoran eventually released Maria and with one more look at her, began to make his way to the gate. After walking several feet, he suddenly turned to face his host one more time.

"Thank you, Maria. For everything." Was all he said before he exited the Clocktower.

That had been the first time she had seen Zoran truly happy. She had originally only planned to help him move past the terrible things that had happened to him and to find some source of purpose in his life, but she did not think she would ever see him smile. A small feeling of pride erupted in her chest, having finally brought about a positive change in someone, even if it was just one person. Turning around to return to her chair, she noticed something.

The music box was still there. Though her first thought was that he had simply forgotten it, she quickly realized what his true motive was.

"Oh, good hunter."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> **Author's Note:** Time for another history lesson!
> 
> \- Kvass is a fermented non-alcoholic beverage popular in many parts of Eastern Europe. The reason Zoran was so fond of it is partly because Cossacks were not allowed to take alcohol on their campaigns, which made it a great substitute.
> 
> \- A "pryanik" is a popular baked good in Russia, which is made with rye flour, honey and occasionally certain spices. The city mentioned in the chapter is Tula, which is famous for their richly-decorated versions of the good and it's manufacturing of firearms and "samovars", a type of container that is used to boil water.
> 
> \- The famine event Zoran was referring to is the Russian Famine of 1891-92. It claimed as many as 500,000 lives and produced much public anger against the Tsardom for their poor handling of the situation.
> 
> \- The cholera pandemic I mentioned lasted from 1881-1896 and affected parts of Germany and Russia. And yes, said pandemic is partly to blame for the scale of the beastly scourge in Yharnam at the time of Zoran's arrival.
> 
> While re-writing, I wanted to expand this scene in order to both give them both a few essential character moments and to make their attraction to one another a bit more believable. As it was, I felt like the original was concluded far too quickly. And much like the last chapter, I added a handful of not to subtle Easter Eggs. Feel free to point them out if you want.


	8. In einen goldnen Krug.

Zoran sat on the edge of the lookout of the long abandoned Byrgenwerth College, looking out towards the moon-illuminated lake. He was uncertain as to why he had originally returned here, seeing as there was little else left for him here after slaying Rom; but the beautiful sight before him was welcome after the endless myriad of twisted buildings and blood-stained streets that had made up a large part of his journey. He understood why Willem had been so fond of this lookout, even as his mind began to wither away.

Really, all he wanted was a place to escape from it all. Away from his duty, away from the eldritch beings now fully visible in Yharnam, away from the Nightmare. Away from her.

Ever since their last meeting, Zoran's thoughts gravitated towards Maria. He could not deny that their time together had helped pull him back from the brink and helped him see that there was still something there for him in this bleak world that surrounded him. In return, Zoran had tried to ease her own suffering, in what little way he could.

But he had felt something change between them when he let her remove his mask, as his feeling of trust and respect for her blossomed into something else. After they had parted ways, he set about concocting a plan to see if he was right; but he never could’ve predicted their experimental exchange would end the way it did.

They had talked about nothing and everything, sharing stories until their bottles were empty, the teapot was drained and his supply of “pryaniks” had been reduced to mere crumbs. He had planned to give her the music box in either case, but somehow, she still managed to surprise him; inviting him to dance with her as it’s tune quietly played in the background. If their meeting were to have concluded there, he would’ve been content; but it didn’t. And any doubt he had as to the nature of his feelings for her immediately vanished.

He found himself desperately wanting to return to her, to listen to her enchanting voice. To have her close to him. To see her smile again.

But part of him was afraid to go back, because he had not been entirely honest with her.

The helm he held in his hands was a reminder of what he really was, something he wasn't proud of. When he told Maria about the loss of his former comrade Alfred, he had not specified as to the cause of his madness. In truth, he had aided the Executioner in his eternal quest to find the fabled Cainhurst Castle, final resting place of his exalted Master Logarius and the home of Queen Annalise, last of the Vilebloods.

Or at least, she was.

As he travelled through the Forbidden Woods, a mysterious force had beckoned him through a nearby cave and back to Iosefka’s Clinic, where he found the latest efforts of the Church’s gruesome experiments, as well as an envelope that invited him to visit the Castle Cainhurst. How it had gotten there or how they knew who he was remained a mystery to him, but he followed its instructions to the latter.

Upon his arrival, he almost subconsciously made his way towards where Annalise’ chamber was located, almost as if he were a marionette being guided along a path. As he progressed further into the abandoned castle, he laid witness to the bloodshed inflicted by the Church’s Executioners against it’s inhabitants; coming upon the long decayed architect on a seemingly empty snowy roof. Upon his defeat of the shell of what had once been Master Logarius, he almost subconsciously put on his fallen crown, revealing the long-lost chamber of the Vileblood Queen.

As he entered, the same voice that had guided him thus far echoed clearly through the vast room, instructing him to either kneel before her or to leave. Her words emanated with authority, yet were also rather inviting, tempting him to approach her. As he followed her instruction, she had made it seem like she was surprised by his arrival, but he understood that it was a mere act.

She knew exactly who he was.

As she introduced herself and recounted the brutal actions the Church had inflicted on her and her people, Zoran remembered feeling a sudden anger swell within him. His own anger towards the ones that had forced him into this hunt still fresh in his mind, it was only amplified by the horrors he had come across during his journey to this very room. She had chosen her words very carefully.

Zoran had pledged himself to the Queen, taking up arms against the Church in a hope to bring their entire organization to ruin. Swearing the Vileblood Oath and partaking of the queen's rotten blood, he donned the armor of the Royal Guard and took up the Chikage, weapon of the defenders of Cainhurt's royal bloodline; the hybrid weapon eating away at his very essence every time he used it.

But he didn’t care. All he cared about was exacting revenge on the Healing Church and it didn’t matter to him how many people he had to slay to see it through. He had been born to kill, he thought; why bother hiding from what he truly was?

This continued until he had slaughtered dozens of his former comrades, harvesting their blood and bringing it back to Annalise in order to further her ambition to produce an heir, as well as to gain more of her unholy, yet invigorating blood. As he cut down his targets, one after another, he began to relish the feeling of the kill, with each victim bringing a sense of unparalleled euphoria.

It wasn’t until he went after the only Executioner he believed remained in Yharnam that he began to realize the error of his way. Alfred fought valiantly and ruthlessly, but he was soon overwhelmed and at his mercy. Yet, he displayed no fear at his impending doom, daring him to finish him. Despite being unaware of his assailant’s true identity, Alfred’s words had stopped Zoran from killing him.

This was his friend. He had been a loyal and trustworthy partner throughout the night, and a valuable source of interaction. And he had come dangerously close to slaughtering him like a crazed animal. 

This moment of clarity did not last long, for he soon found himself back in her chamber. As he knelt before her as per usual, he was surprised when she ordered for him to stand, herself rising from her throne and approaching him. Rid of the mask forced on her by the Executioners, Zoran could see that his gifts had restored her to the prime of her youth. She praised him then: for his dedication to Cainhurst, his prowess in combat and above all, his loyalty to her. Even as she removed his helm, he found himself unable to stop her, almost as if he had been placed under a spell.

The next thing he knew, he was lying in a bed, an unconscious Annalise by his side. He did not remember a thing of what had happened, but in the absence of the Queen’s silver tongue, it became quite clear to him what she had done to him.

He had long assumed that Annalise had planned to be the bearer of a Great One’s child, and as the first and most influential of the Vilebloods, she was an ideal host for such a child. Yet the longer his service went on and this prediction failed to come to fruition, his theory began to fall apart at the seams.

She was no doubt aware of the fate that befell Queen Yharnam, her distant ancestor and the last known bearer of a Child of Blood. Realizing the inherent danger of consorting with beings beyond her comprehension, she had opted to play the long game; slowly accumulating enough “echo-fiend” blood to make the liaison unnecessary.

The Dregs he brought to her had the added benefit of restoring her to her younger, more fertile years, with the subsequent gifts of blood offered to him furthering his own status as a Vileblood in turn. She never intended to be impregnated by a nameless deity. What she truly wanted was to continue her own lineage with a truly special child. One that she could control.

And he was to be the final step in that quest. A “moon-scented” hunter who had the forbidden blood of Cainhurst flowing through his veins. The perfect specimen to father the legendary “Child of Blood”; a role he would fulfill whether he wanted to or not.

She had manipulated him. Corrupted him. Violated him. And now, he had served his purpose.

But alas, her flesh was undying, so nothing he could do would bring him the vengeance he so desired. Yet as Queen Annalise slumbered, her plan seemingly coming into fruition, she was unaware that her trusted knight had slipped away; a single, bloodstained envelope in tow.

That had been the last time he had seen her in one piece, but even as the remains of her queenly flesh squirmed on her throne, her legacy lived on.

Lived on within him.

Now that he knew of Maria's disdain of her former home, he had hidden all traces of his ties to Cainhurst from her. He did not know if she would be willing to accept him after knowing the truth, but part of him knew she would find out, sooner or later. He had buried himself in his duties in order to distract himself from this uncertainty and to find any excuse not to return. He did not want her to turn on him, just like all the others.

But he could not bear lying to her any longer. It was time she knew the truth.

….

The soothing melody echoed through the Clocktower for what seemed like the hundredth time. Any other person would have long ago been driven mad from being forced to listen to the same mind-numbing tune over and over again, but Maria welcomed anything that would break the unbearable silence within her domain. Despite the relatively modest nature of the music box, it was a gift she would always treasure.

Despite the multitude of thoughts that ran through her mind, they always seemed to come back to her last encounter with Zoran. He had proven himself good company long ago, but even though they had been engaged in conversation for what was felt like half a dozen hours, she did not grow weary. She could not recall being able to converse so freely with someone as she did with him, where it seemed as if no topic was off the table.

But one aspect of their encounter stood above the others. Though she had hoped only to alleviate the dark cloud that had settled on them after his story, she came away from their dance seeing him in a completely different light. She had been inexplicably drawn to him after the music box fell silent and it seemed that same feeling gripped him as well. A longing, of sorts. A longing for something more.

Something had clearly changed between them, and up until that point; she was hesitant to call it by its name. But their last meeting was…magical. So much so that she didn’t want it to ever end. He had always made her feel at ease when they were together; but their last few meetings had inspired something she had not felt in a long time.

Genuine happiness.

To see him so high-spirited and animated compared to the wreck he had been when they first met warmed her heart; especially now that she knew the type of man he was before the hunt had crushed his spirit. He was a joy to be around, attentively listening one moment and beginning a seemingly meaningless discussion the next. But no matter how bleak their surroundings seemed to be, he never failed to bring a smile to her face.

But despite all that, a lingering guilt was present at the back of her mind. Not from the action itself, but from the fact that he still did not know the reason she was trapped in this Nightmare to begin with. Of the unspeakable cruelty she had inflicted on the citizens of that hamlet so many years ago. And of the reason she stood guard to ensure no-one else discovered it.

She had been so absorbed in thought that she did not notice the strange figure enter the Clocktower until he had already passed through the gate. Swiftly grabbing her Rakuyo, she saw a man wearing a full suit of armor, with a helm covering his face. Upon closure expectation, she recognized it immediately, hatred gripping her as she realized the armor's origin.

"Knight of Cainhurst! What despicable quest brings you to my domain?!" She questioned her mysterious visitor, only to be met with silence as the figure continued to approach her.

"I will not allow you to further your Queen's twisted ambition. You will get nothing from me." She said in a rage, fully prepared to combat this intruder.

Suddenly, he spoke, his helm obscuring his voice.

"The Queen is dead, as are her subjects. Cainhurst Castle lies in disrepair. We are all that remains of it's legacy."

Maria could hardly believe her ears. Long had she dreamed of seeing Cainhurst's nobility crumble into nothing, their despicable practices abandoned for good. She had thought Annalise's death impossible, yet clearly the pompous nature of the castle's nobles extended far beyond their invitations. But she did not allow this news to distract her from the figure in front of her, who's identity remained a mystery.

"Who are you?" She asked the intruder, her disdain evident with every word.

"I am a Royal Guard of Cainhurst Castle, a Vileblood." He took of his helmet then and upon seeing his true identity, Maria dropped her Rakuyo in shock, backing away in astonishment.

"I, the very last on this Earth."

"Zoran? But… how…"

….

It had been several hours since Zoran had given Alfred the envelope that would lead him to Cainhurst Castle. He had feigned ignorance as to the reason of his injured state and shared his vials with him to help him recover before he presented him with the very thing he had sought for so long.

Ever since he had aided him in battle against the poisonous beast in Old Yharnam, Alfred had been the first person he would go to in case he needed someone’s help and he was always happy to provide it. It was about time he returned the favor.

Zoran set his thoughts on Annalise’ throne room, still wearing the armour that had been granted to him in the off chance his friend had not arrived yet. In any case, he did not want to miss her comeuppance. When he finally materialized, the first thing he heard was Alfred's triumphant exclamation.

"Master, look! I've done it, I've done it! I smashed and pounded and grounded this rotten siren in to fleshy pink pulp! There, you filthy monstrosity! What good's your immortality now! Try stirring up trouble in THIS sorry state! All mangled and twisted, with every inside on the outside, for all the world to see!"

He erupted into rapturous laughter, the intensity of which sent shivers down Zoran's spine. Making his way to his ally, he laid witness to his handiwork. Queen Annalise, now nothing more then a bloody paste, what little remained writhing eerily as if still trying to draw breath. Though he knew the barbaric tactics of the Executioners, the sight before him still caused him to feel sick to the stomach. Looking at Alfred, he found the protegee stained in blood, wearing a golden cone-like helmet and hoisting a massive wheel on his shoulder, giggling like a madman.

"Oh, you, is it? Look at this! Thanks to you, I've done it!" Alfred suddenly recognized Zoran's presence, pure joy in his voice. "Well? Isn't it wonderful? Now master can be canonized as a true martyr!"

"Alfred, what has happened to you?" Zoran was thoroughly disturbed by the Executioner, who now seemed like a completely different person from the kind-hearted stranger he had met in the Cathedral Ward.

"I've become whole. I have carried out my Master's final wish. I've done it. I have." He then erupted into another round of laughter, causing Zoran to back away from him uneasily.

"Now, what is the meaning of this? Did you not wish to see the end of this wretched siren? You should rejoice!" Alfred suspiciously questioned his ally.

"I did. Truly, I did. But this is… this was not the end I would have envisioned." Zoran told the bloodstained Executioner.

"Oh, I see. You're jealous, aren't you?" Alfred mocked his compatriot.

"What? No. I fear for your well-being. The Alfred I knew would not resort to such senseless brutality!" Zoran tried to reason with one of the few people he called his friend.

"Then perhaps you did not know me as well as you thought! Fifteen years I have waited for this moment and at the dawn of my finest hour, you stand there and judge me? Need I remind you that I would not have made it here if not for you?!" Alfred began to scold Zoran, edging closer towards him with every word.

"No, I need no reminder. But I know I did not go through hell and back just to see you lose yourself to madness!" Zoran fired back.

"Mad, am I? What would you know?" Alfred snarled, now face to face with his fellow hunter.

"More than you can imagine." Was all Zoran managed to reply with, but it seemed to cause a dawn of realization to descend over the Executioner, as he backed away from his ally.

"Master Logarius was the anchor that ensured no one would discover the Vilebloods again. I thought him lost to time, but it was you, wasn't it?" He realized, his grip on his weapon tightening the longer he spoke.

"It was." Zoran admitted sheepishly.

"And the only way you could have obtained the summons that brought me here, was to be…" Suddenly, Alfred's head shot up and if he were able to see his face, Zoran was almost certain he was glaring at him.

"You. A Vileblood?!" Alfred questioned; betrayal evident in his voice.

"Alfred, please. You must understand. I wasn’t in my right mind. She manipulated me." Despite his pleading, Zoran knew he couldn't reason with Alfred any further.

"You lied to me. You were in league with this wench from the beginning. You aim to stifle the Master's will." Alfred stated in an accusing tone, before he began to shake in visible anger.

Before Zoran could protest, Alfred charged towards him with a gut-wrenching scream, ready to ground him into mush. Sliding back at the last moment, Zoran drew his Chikage and continued to evade the Executioner's relentless swings, knowing that he could not defend himself from such a heavy weapon.

"Unclean wench! Vile monstrosity! Bloody fool!" Alfred's rage induced insults echoed throughout the throne room as he chased after his prey, his only aim being its complete annihilation.

"Alfred, listen to me! I am not your enemy!" Zoran pleaded with his friend.

"LIAR! Just like your mistress! You have been tainted by her unholy blood! This is what you deserve!" Zoran's pleas fell on deaf ears.

Zoran ceased his retreat and ducked underneath Alfred's wheel, sliding forward as it sailed past him into a nearby statue, shattering it. As he did this, he slashed at Alfred's stomach with his sword, causing the Executioner to cry out in pain and double over as he clutched his bloodied abdomen, his Ardeo falling of his head to reveal collapsing, bloodshot eyes. His theory had been confirmed. Alfred was descending into beast-hood.

"The blood! You've spilled my blood!"

The Executioner then reached for his weapon, revving it several times until a blood-red aura surrounded the wheel. Charging at Zoran with renewed vigor, Alfred continued his onslaught. Noticing that the strength of the Executioner's swing was weakening with each passing second, he suddenly had an idea. He continued to evade Alfred's attacks for the next twenty seconds, until the effort that was necessary to maintain the buff became too much to bear, causing the executioner to struggle when trying to lift his massive weapon. Seizing the opportunity, Zoran rushed towards his corrupted friend, driving him through the chest in one swift motion.

Alfred dropped his wheel, desperately reaching for Zoran as if still attempting to catch him, seemingly not noticing the weapon embedded in his chest. The Vileblood then pulled the Chikage from the Executioner's chest, causing its victim to drop to his knees, completely drained from his vain attempt to slay Zoran. Looking up at the target of his rage, Alfred began to softly chuckle to himself as his body began to fade away.

"Pray for Master Logarius in my stead…" He pleaded before collapsing, seemingly recognizing his friend in his final moments.

Zoran spared one more look at Annalise's mangled remains, a realization suddenly dawning on him. The Vilebloods had won. It did not matter that every last one of them had been wiped out, for even in death, they had managed to drive their greatest adversaries to the brink of ruin. Looking down at the accursed weapon in his hands, Zoran flung it across the room in a fit of rage, managing to impale the Queen's writhing flesh as he did so. But he knew it did not matter. She would survive, no matter what he did. And even if he somehow managed to slay her, he had ensured that the Vileblood legacy would live on within him.

With that, he rushed into the bitter cold of the Castle's exterior, where he had slain the shell that remained of the once mighty Logarius so long ago. Glancing once more at the accursed castle, he focused his attention on the lantern in front of him and left Cainhurst, vowing never to return.

….

Maria stared at the helm Zoran held in his hands, several thoughts running through her mind. Learning of the fate that befell her people had been...harrowing. She retained memories of many people who resided within Cainhurst's walls; honorable, well-meaning men and women who unfortunately were surrounded by liars and moral charlatans. Her parents, her friends, her former comrades in the kingdom's ranks... and a man she had once loved dear. All of them were gone now, and yet somehow, Annalise had been the only one to escape Logarius' jealous wrath.

She still remembered him. He had been opposed to the use of the exalted Queen Yharnam's blood from the very beginning, but his station was far to meager to demand the Royal Court change their minds. It was obvious to all but his followers that he held dreams of holding the throne, so when he was exiled and came to Laurence to swear his allegiance, she warned him right away to keep a close eye on him. Maria remembered the anti-Vileblood sentiment that permeated the Healing Church all too well; had she not had the Vicar's friendship and trust, she wouldn't have lasted a day. Laurence himself had done his best to quell these beliefs among his ranks, but clearly he hadn't been thorough enough. With him gone, Logarius was able to get the ear of whoever inherited his mantle and convinced them the Vilebloods were too dangerous to be left alone.

The institution she had helped build and shape had hastened the demise of her people and any chance they had to restore their former glory. And Annalise's hubris-her inability to acknowledge the Church and the hunters as a legitimate threat-had sealed it. Yet she remained as ambitious and undeterred as ever, as evidenced by the man sitting besides her now.

"Why didn't you tell me?" Maria suddenly asked, unable to hide the hurt from her voice.

"Because I was afraid of how you would react." Zoran admitted.

Maria understood then that he had been afraid that she would see him as the monster he thought he was, turning on him much like Alfred did. Though she held no affection towards the knights of Cainhurst, her hatred was not all-consuming.

"Zoran, I mean no offense, but this Alfred was clearly a zealot. His commitment to the extermination of the Vilebloods was absolute and I doubt that he would have continued to associate himself with you if he had known the truth. All the beast hood did was escalate this hatred." Maria attempted to bring attention to the Executioner's underlying issues.

"Maybe so, but I still considered him to be my friend. And I clearly did not know him as well as I thought I did." Zoran replied, with Maria immediately recognizing the point he was trying to make.

"I know what you are thinking. It is true that I hated the Queen and all those who associated with her. But I am not like Logarius and his wandering band of barbarians. I can see that she used you. Manipulated your anger and grief. I would never think less of you for something that was out of your control" She told him.

"Was it really out of my control? The things I did on her behalf, they…they stemmed from my own desires and wants. I would never have joined her if a part of me didn’t _want _to enact such total revenge. To partake in such mindless slaughter.” She offered no response, which caused Zoran’s face to contort in frustration.

"Why do you say nothing? Do you not wish to see the legacy of Cainhurst extinguished? Because if you truly do, then you know you cannot allow me to leave this tower!" He suddenly snapped at her, forcing Maria to glare at him in order to silence him.

"Speak not those words! I did not spend hours listening to every horrid detail of your hardships just to have you beg for death yet again. Yes, you made a mistake. But that is not all that defines you." Maria spoke with an authoritative tone, hoping to quell his attempts to goad her.

"Zoran, you must understand. Even now, after I have discovered the darkest aspects of your life, I do not regret our fellowship; not for a moment. It is…" She paused then, struggling to get the final few words out.

"You are very dear to me." She admitted, causing Zoran to stare at her for several moments until it seemed that sense had returned to him.

"I lied to you, Maria. I led you on while hiding an integral part of who I was. How could you possibly forgive me?" Zoran suddenly asked her.

"Because I have not been entirely truthful with you either."

….

The sky over the desolate Fishing Hamlet was clear, with the deluge that had accompanied her last venture having subsided. The town was barren, without a soul in sight as Maria wandered through the village square and towards the path that took her to the caves below. Where _she _lay even now.

She was alone, carrying a wooden headstone in her hands, her eyes set straight ahead as she walked up a small hill towards a rundown light-house, which had once served as a guide to the village’s fishermen as they returned with their spoils. As she approached her destination, the eldritch voices that normally plagued her were strangely absent.

Approaching a fenced off cliff, she set down the makeshift headstone on a nearby rock and hesitantly approached the side, placing her hands on the fence and looked out at the ocean as the salty wind blew into her face. She closed her eyes, willing herself to look downwards to where she knew the sight of her greatest sin lay in wait.

Opening her eyes, she saw her. Mother Kos. The Great One worshiped by the hamlet’s residence. And the being who her and her fellow hunters had unjustly defiled in pursuit of an eldritch truth.

She had carried the burden that night had placed on her for several years, trying to lose herself in her hunts in order to cast the memories of its events from her mind. But she knew she could never forget it. _She _would make sure of it.

Averting her gaze from the deceased Great One, she turned back towards the headstone; picking it up and logged it into the wet ground near the edge of the cliff. Releasing her hold on it, she clasped her hands together as she knelt down in front of it, uttering a prayer that the slain residents of this village and the child the hunters had defaced would one day find peace.

But she did not ask them for their forgiveness. For she deserved none.

After she had concluded her prayer, she reached into her travelling bag and pulled out a lumen-flower she had picked out prior to her journey, gently placing it against the headstone. Rising to her feet, she cast one more solemn look at the makeshift grave before turning to leave, making her way back to the village square.

As she walked away, a myriad of distorted voices began to run through her mind. Pleas of mercy. Desperate prayers. The pained noises of the dying as the weapons of the workshop pierced their skulls. But in the background, one voice was always constant; its condemnation echoing in her head.

“_Curse the fiends, their children too. And their children’s children forever true. Call to the bloodless, wherever they may be. Mother is dead, her baby taken. Mother is dead, her baby taken.”_

This chanting continued until Maria stumbled into the middle of the town-square, prostrating herself on the ground as tears poured down her face in droves. So much death. So many lives claimed by her hand, and for what? So she could feel like a hero? So she could be a part of something greater than herself? Or was it because, deep down, she was herself a beast; concerned only with who her next kill would be?

Straightening herself, she pulled her Rakuyo from the sheath on her side; it’s shining blades reflecting the face of it’s wielder. The face of a hunter.

The face of a murderer.

With a cry, she flung her blade away, listening as it tumbled down a nearby well, culminating with a distant splash. She then rushed out of the village, not looking back as she mounted her horse and rode away from the accursed land; trying to escape as far away as she could.

And through it all, the voice of Mother Kos followed; like a hunter trying to wear down its prey.

….

A dreadful silence fell over the Clocktower after Maria concluded her admission. She stared blankly at the floor, to ashamed to look him in the eye. She gave up the hunt after that day; swearing never again to claim another life; choosing instead to put her talents to a more practical use. He had listened intently throughout, not saying a word as she chronicled the events that lead to her abandoning the hunter’s life.

And to the creation of the Nightmare they found themselves in now.

“Is that what you’re guarding, then?” He asked as he locked in the direction of the clockwork of her tower.

“Yes.” She admitted, not wanting to hide the truth anymore. But he had one more question for her, which could not be answered as easily.

“Why, Maria?”

She did not answer his question straight away, instead sitting in silence for a few moments as she pondered how to properly explain herself. He deserved to know, but she had to give him the full truth.

Without saying a word, she rose from her seat and strode over to the table, picking up the music box he had bestowed upon her. After its tune began to play, she set it down and turned back to Zoran, who sat watching all this unfold. Once again offering him her hand, he sat in a state of slight surprise for a moment before he accepted. The two of them repeated the ritual from their last encounter before they were again moving as one, albeit in a much slower fashion. Like this, she noticed that her partner seemed much more at ease this time around, managing to stay at a mostly even pace with her.

“Why did you do it, then?” He asked yet again, reminding her of what they had been about to discuss.

“Do what?” She asked back, slight puzzled by what he was implying.

“Why prevent others from discovering it? If you were so ashamed of what transpired there, wouldn’t you want to undo what happened? Why continue to serve the interests of the ones who wronged you even in death?” He demanded, as she slightly avoided her gaze. Finally mustering the courage to tell the truth, she looked him in the eye with a serious expression.

“I wasn’t.”

Realization seemed to dawn on Zoran soon after, his eyes widening as he recognized why she held guard over the Church’s darkest secret.

“You weren’t acting in the interests of the Church. You did it on your own accord. You _wanted _the Nightmare to endure.” He stated, which Maria confirmed with a slight nod.

“You must understand. In the last few years of my life, I was consumed by bitterness and hate. Before I…died, I grew resentful of the institutions I pioneered: of the hunters and of the Church. But above all, I hated myself. And as my life flashed before my eyes, all I could see was the trail of death and misery that was left behind in my wake. What was to be my legacy.” The jovial atmosphere that defined their last liaison was no longer present, replaced with a feeling of apprehension and unease.

“I thought that was the end. But then, I awoke in this very room; as if I were reeling from a bad dream. But the moment I saw my old weapon lying in my lap, I realized what was happening. I tried to escape several times, finding myself awakening in the same spot each time; my wounds fully healed. And I could hear voices: the hamlet dwellers I cut down, the people the beasts I slew once were, the countless patients I confined to a fate worse than death. This was to be my punishment. I would never be able to escape from the atrocities I’ve committed. I would never be able to find peace, because in the eyes of the Gods, I did not deserve it.” Her explanation was thorough, but she had not yet described the most important development.

“And you agreed, didn’t you?” He asked, his voice belying a hint of concern.

“I did. But before that acceptance occurred, I pleaded with Mother Kos and pledged that I would watch over the astral passageway for as long as I lived; desperate as I was to alleviate my suffering. And when the voices suddenly ceased, I understood then that me and her had a shared interest. To ensure that the child of Kos is never defiled again.” She bluntly stated.

“And that the ones responsible were punished.”

They continued to dance in silence for the next few moments until the faint melody came to an end, forcing them to stop. Maria could sense a slight apprehension in her partner, yet despite now being fully aware of her darkest hour, continued to tenderly embrace her. To think it took him laying down his life for her to begin to see the error of her ways.

“I’m sorry, Zoran.” She told him, her voice low and rueful.

“For what, may I ask?” He said in response, looking over to her with a puzzled look.

“For what I did to you in our first few encounters. When we fought, all I felt were the anger and hatred that had been festering within me for my last few years of life. And in you, I saw the parts of me I despised the most; the thought that you were undeserving of my wrath never crossing my mind.” She admitted, the guilt for her unjust treatment of him still lingering.

“Come now, there’s no need for that. You know full well the same thoughts were running through my mind as well.” He assured her, though this did little to shake her feeling of guilt.

“That isn’t what I’m saying. It shouldn’t be that I had to see the full extent of your hardships to feel even a hint of remorse. And that the loss of my humanity hinged on a misfired pistol.” Maria said, reminding him of just how unlikely their current conversation was given the circumstances of their meeting.

“But _you_ were the one who pulled yourself back from that brink. What you did to me then doesn’t matter anymore, because you saw the error of your ways and worked to better yourself. That _thing_ I fought when I first came here, that wasn’t you. Just as much as the person you fought was not me.”

Maria found herself at a loss for words. But despite her disbelief, she sensed no insincerity in what he had said to her. He did not hold any ill-will towards her, acknowledging just how much the both of them had changed since their bloody and heated duels. And she knew he was right.

In her, he would’ve seen everything he hated about himself. She reminded him of the Church and of Cainhurst, for whom he had sold his soul and cut down hundreds in their name. Their battles reminded him of the warrior he had been molded into from birth, something he would never be able to undo. And his countless deaths by her hand served to remind him that no matter what, he would never be able to escape from his sins.

She knew all of this because he had said as such, letting his doubts and struggles be known to her with little hesitation. Yet throughout her time with him, she had also seen what lay beneath the hardened exterior; a kind and gentle soul sullied by the pain and trauma he has endured over the years.

As this mess of thoughts and emotions swirled and turned inside her mind, she felt Zoran slightly tighten his hold on her hand, a small smile forming on his face.

“Come. I want to show you something.”

She proceeded to follow him outside of her tower and through the gardens leading back to the Research Hall, remaining unsure of where exactly he was leading her.

“Where exactly are we going?” She asked as they entered the surgical room where the lifts were located.

“I’m sure you know the answer to that.” He responded as they stepped into the elevator to the upper levels. as they stepped out of the elevator, she failed to procure an answer. She knew every inch of the tower like the back of her hand, so how is it he knew of a place that would be able to surprise her? Unless…

“Oh, no. No, no, no, no, no…” She uttered in dismay as she recognized they were fast approaching the massive spiraling staircase to the top of the tower. Gods, please, anything but that.

“Now, Maria. I know you’re frightened, but there isn’t anything to worry about. All you have to do is take that first step and from there, it will only get easier.” As he said this, he stepped onto the staircase and turned to look back at her. Despite his obvious attempt to urge her on, she felt as if her legs had turned to stone; preventing her from going any further. Noticing her hesitation, he extended his hand to her.

“I will be by your side. Trust me.”

After a few more heartbeats of uncertainty, she accepted his offered hand and cautiously placed her foot on the first step, before following Zoran upwards at a relatively slow pace. Through it all, her heart hammered against her chest, every sense in her body telling her to turn and run back down to safety. But she could also feel Zoran holding her hand and his mere presence seemed to soothe her unease.

The further they went, the more she had to refrain from casting her gaze downwards to see just how high they really were.

“Easy. We’re almost there.” Zoran reassured her as they stepped on to the second flight of stairs and it was then she recognized that her grip on his hand had tightened significantly.

After she was finally off the stairwell, she gripped a nearby railing and began to breathe heavily, trying to calm herself down.

“Are you quite finished?” He asked after letting her catch her breath for a few minutes.

“Yes.” She acknowledged before rising back to her full height and turning to face him. “I do believe you’ve made your point. Shall we begin our descent?” Upon saying this, his reaction made it clear his plans for her were not quite over.

“Oh, not yet. The first step is always a hard one to take, but once you take it, you need to commit to the path you’ve chosen. Otherwise, it’s all but worthless.” With that, he stepped to the side and presented to her a small ladder that lead even further up. “After you.” He insisted, seemingly knowing that if he went first, she would surely not follow.

She glared daggers at him as she approached the ladder, but ultimately complied with his instruction. After reaching the top, she saw what was to be her next test: a series of dangerously narrow beams. And the dread she felt when faced with the stairwell was amplified tenfold.

As she stood petrified, she could faintly make out Zoran joining her on the platform she stood on.

“You can’t be serious.” She said to him, her voice quivering despite her efforts.

“I will not say that you shouldn’t be afraid. When faced with something like this, it’s all but impossible not to be. But when there is fear, there also lies a chance to overcome it. To move past it.” He stepped by her onto the beam, walking a few steps away without showing an ounce of fear. He then stopped and turned to face her, flashing a warm smile her way.

“Confront that fear with me, Maria.”

He again offered her his hand and again, she accepted it. As he led her further out onto the beam and with every step, her heart hammered against her chest; forcing herself to appear calm.

She was terrified. She dared not look down, but simply being aware of just how perilous her current altitude was made her stomach threaten revolt. Yet as they got closer to the center, she suddenly froze up. Her eyes slightly glistening from the tears building in her eyes, her eyes began to wander downwards…

“Do not look down. Keep your eyes firmly on what lies ahead.” Zoran’s voice snapped her from her petrification and her eyes focused firmly on him. Forcing herself to push aside her fear, she continued to follow him; his smiling visage comforting her despite their precarious position. Every time he took a step back, she mirrored him and soon, the deadly drop beneath her had all but vanished from her mind.

As they stepped onto the circular platform where the device that operated the staircase was located, her fear had subsided, but was not yet forgotten. Zoran continued to lead her forward, until they neared the very edge of the walkway they found themselves on. And through it all, her eyes were set on him, not on the ground below. And she could see the pride on his face as they approached the end of the path.

“You’re near the end now. Just a few more steps.” He said in encouragement. Zoran then stopped just at the edge, letting go of her hand, turning and jumping off the edge; the sudden action filling her with a fear unlike any other as she called out his name. That was when she realized that there was a vast platform just below them, where he now awaited her.

“There’s nothing to fear. Let go, Maria. Come and join me.” He said in encouragement as he raised out his arms as a sign he was ready to catch her.

Maria stood at the edge for a few more moments, pondering her next move as Zoran eagerly awaited her. One of her feet hovered over the side, her hand holding onto the railing next to her to prevent her from doing anything rash. Closing her eyes, she slowly moved towards the ledge.

She soon recognized that she was falling, forcing herself to remain calm until she felt a sudden jolt, forcing her eyes open. She found Zoran standing before her, having kept his word and caught her as she fell. As her feet touched the floor and he helped her straighten herself, her terror finally caught up with her.

She enveloped him in her arms, holding him close to her and burying her face in his shoulder as the tears brought forth by her fear finally flowed over the brims. As she wept, Zoran tenderly held her, trailing his hand up and down her back.

“So high…I thought I was going to…I thought you…” She stammered in between her sobbing, but Zoran promptly shushed her in a gentle tone.

“It’s alright. Nothing’s going to hurt you here.” He said in an attempt to soothe her.

They stayed like that until she felt some semblance of control return to her, but even after her crying came to an end, Maria continued to hold on to him for the next little while; content with simply having him close to her. She eventually willed herself to release him, though her hands remained on his shoulders.

“Feeling better?” He politely asked.

“Yes. Thank you.” She was still a bit shaken from her ordeal, but she was sure it would subside shortly. Never in a million years did she think she would’ve been capable of attempting such a thing, but he had inspired her to confront a fear that had plagued her since she was a little girl. And he did it on his own accord.

“I know I should’ve said this before, but it heartens me to see how much you’ve improved. I’m very proud of you, Zoran.” She truthfully said, prompting him to lightly chuckle.

“You made that ardently clear, as I recall.” Maria felt a sudden rush of heat in her face as she was reminded of the conclusion of their last meeting. She knew they would be forced to confront it eventually, yet she still found herself under-prepared. It had been a decision made in the spur of the moment, but it left her…longing for something more with him.

"Listen, I…I can't stress enough how much our last meeting meant to me. I enjoyed every second of it." She acknowledged with a smile.

"I did too." He stated in response just before he smiled as well. "Speaking of which, how did you find my little offering?" Despite it being given as a question, it seemed he was already confident of her answer.

"Oh, it's delightful. I can see why you were so attached to it." She answered, suddenly regretting that she hadn't taken it with her. The silence of their current location was almost deafening.

"I'm glad to hear that. It was all I could really offer as thanks." He softly said, causing her lips to form into a small smile.

"Thanks? Whatever for?" She asked.

"For saving me. If you hadn't stepped in, I dread to think what would've become of me." He admitted and Maria could somehow tell he earnestly believed what he was saying.

"Come now. You don't owe me anything. The fact you're still here-is rewarding enough on its own." She said, bringing her hand to rest on his cheek.

“Should I bother offering an apology?.” He appeared confused by her question.

"Whatever do you mean?" He inquired, a slight trace of offense in his words.

"Don't get me wrong, I very much enjoyed myself, but...I admit I got a little carried away near the end." After this clarification, Zoran smiled in amusement. "I never considered that my advances may have been unwelcome. So I just wanted to say that..."

Before she could even finish her sentence, Zoran stood on his tiptoes and kissed her on the lips, leaving her in a state of surprise. Yet it subsided just as quickly as it begun and she soon found that it made her feel…warm.

Closing her eyes, Maria melted into the surprisingly gentle kiss, holding onto his hips to support him as his own hands rested on either of her shoulders. He was clearly inexperienced with this sort of thing, but that didn't hinder the effect he had on her in the slightest, because it confirmed something she had suspected for some time. After he broke away from her, she stood in stunned silence as Zoran looked expectantly up at her, no doubt gauging her reaction. There was such fire in his eyes; a far-cry from the empty, lifeless void they had appeared as when they had first met. To think that such a turnabout was possible, even in so bleak and desolate a landscape.

"Zoran...is this truly...?" She struggled to formulate her thoughts, but for the first time since she had met him, he exhibited no uncertainty.

“That day. When you chose to put an end to our conflict, I remember feeling as if my soul had fizzled out. Comfort. Hope. Fear. All of them seemed like foreign concepts to me then, ones that I would never again reclaim. I thought that my failing to best you was what finally snuffed out that fleeting flame. But I see now that if I had succeeded, if my aim were true that day…that would’ve been the moment it well and truly died.” Every word was spoken with sincerity. His voice did not falter and there was no trace of regret for what happened that day. And for once in her life, Maria was speechless.

She had defeated him that day by the skin of her teeth and if that shot had fired, she would’ve certainly perished. And that would’ve been it. She would die trying to ensure thousands upon thousands continued to suffer, while Zoran would go on with no guarantee he would succeed in ending the Nightmare, close as he was to the brink of self-destruction. So many pieces had to have fallen into place for them to have met and yet, the position they were in now had hinged on a single bullet being fired.

"I know that you still carry a heavy burden. How what transpired in that Hamlet still weighs down on your very soul. But despite all that, I know that you are not the monster you perceive yourself to be. Because I've had the privilege of seeing the real you; the *real* Maria. Honorable. Compassionate. And as fair as the moon itself, it's beauty shining through even in the darkest of nights.”

He held her gaze, letting his words register before he chose to drop all pretenses.

“I love you, Lady Maria.”

Her heart swelled upon hearing him utter those words, though she found herself incapable of saying anything in response. Luckily for her, he still had a bit more to say.

“And yet, being the fool I am, I thought I was somehow undeserving. After all, what am I? There will be no stories written about my virtues nor shrines put up to honor my memory. At the end of it all, I will just be another hunter, caught in a never-ending cycle of blood-lust and insanity.” He softly admitted, before posing one final question to her.

“Would you ever think to love me?”

Still, Maria seemed incapable of saying anything in response. Instead she was transfixed, taken by that same feeling she had experienced in the aftermath of their dance. She traced of her hands across his cheek as she found herself lost in his gaze, enraptured by his strange, moonlit scent and yearning. Yearning for his touch.

Before she knew what was happening, their lips were only a hair’s breadth apart; lightly brushing against each-other before meeting yet again. And just as before, their kiss made her feel...warm.

She deepened their kiss, running her fingers through his hair and letting him bring her closer to him by wrapping his arm around the small of her back. She had been doubtful as to the true nature of these feelings she had for him, but that doubt; it was gone now.

After their kiss had been broken, the two of them stood in disbelief at what had just happened, seemingly forgetting where they were or what had let up to this point. This daze lasted for only a few more seconds before Maria pressed her forehead against his and closed her eyes, savoring their proximity to one another. As the light from the outside poured in from the window behind them, Maria was overtaken with happiness; feeling complete for the first time in what felt like centuries.

“Off course. I do love you.” She softly confessed to him as they continued their tender embrace.

“How couldn’t I? You saved me too…”

……………………………………………………………………………..

As he descended the stairwell, Zoran was elated. The uncertainty he had felt when he finally brought himself to enter Maria’s sanctuary had come dangerously close to driving him away; fearing that he would ruin their comfortable relationship. Yet somehow it had never occurred to him that she had been withholding secrets of her own.

Rather then driving them apart, their honesty somehow only served to cement their bond further.

The idea of bringing her to the very top of the tower had concocted in the spur of the moment, but seeing just how much trust Maria had placed in him eased the anxiety he felt at his impending confession. Telling her the full extent of his feelings for her had taken a heavy weight off his shoulders, even though he did not know how she would react to this revelation.

When she didn’t seem to say anything, he thought for sure that he had overstepped his bounds. But as she removed the pendant her mother had given her and placed it in his open palm, he had been so shocked by the gesture that he forgot how to speak. She didn’t need to say anything else after that, but hearing her confess that she loved him made his hear soar with joy.

So it was that they now walked hand in hand, no more words needing to be said. What was to happen next, he did not now. But so long as she was with him, it did not matter.

“May I ask you a personal question, Zoran?” He heard Maria say as they were about to enter the lift that would take them back down to the lower levels.

“Sure.” He responded simply.

“Have you ever been…intimate with another?”

He prayed to whatever God was willing to listen that he wasn’t flushing, but considering what she was insinuating, he found it difficult to remain composed. Regardless, he chose to answer honestly.

“Well, there was…” It seemed she knew what he was about to say, for she cut him off before he could continue.

“What she did to you was an act of violation, not intimacy. And so, I ask again. Did you ever experience such a thing?” Upon hearing this, his gaze fell to the side.

“No, never. As it was, I took the whole “vow of abstinence” business far more seriously then I should’ve.” With that, Maria’s expression shifted to accompany her noted displeasure.

“I see.” She acknowledged simply.

Looking back, he really didn’t know what had spurred him to hold off sexual relations for so long. Many of his fellow soldiers had begun to sire children even before he deserted, yet he remained a virgin. Was it because he wanted his first experience with it to be special? Because if so, being forced into it by an immortal aristocrat was not what he had in mind.

“Why do you ask?” He inquired, partly to ameliorate the uncomfortable situation this revelation created, but mostly to see whether she was suggesting what he thought she was suggesting.

“Well, you see, in Cainhurst; when one develops an interest in another, they were expected to undergo an extended period of courtship. They would mingle. Exchange gifts. Dance and dine together. And gradually reveal the true extent of their desires.” She stepped closer to him then, stopping just before him. “And once it had been concluded and a mutual love was declared, it was customary for the pair to consummate their union.”

Gently running her hand along the side of his head, she continued.

“The act of love-making was a sacred ritual amongst us, one that was not to be engaged in arbitrarily. During it, one would aim to please the object of their affection; their own gratification coming second to laying bare the full extent of their love.” The alluring way in which she spoke made Zoran feel weak in his knees, all while finding himself captivated by the woman before him, who proceeded to reveal her true intentions.

“I wish to share this with you, Zoran. If that is what you so desire.”

A dumbstruck look was no doubt chiseled on his face then. What exactly what he was supposed to say now? He had never been in a position where a woman was being so forward with her intentions with him and she was being very, very forward. She wanted to lay with him. To grant him his first real sexual encounter.

And there was no one else he’d rather experience that with.

“I do. More then anything, I do.” He stated his consent with a jubilant tone, which led to Maria softly smiling at him.

“Then I have no intention of keeping you waiting. Let us go.”

With that, she led him into the lift and the two of them descended to the lower levels, where she directed him to a hatch that he had remembered had been closed during his trek through the hall. After he reached the bottom, he offered her his arm, which she accepted after a brief interlude. Together, the two of them walked outside into the halls and to one of the neighboring rooms, stopping just in front of the door.

She fished out her set of keys and unlocked it, opening it to reveal a medium sized bedroom with scarce decoration. The bed located at the rightward centre of the room resembled the canopies he had come across at the entrance to the hall, complete with plain white curtains. Other then that, the room also contained a small table beside the bed, a bookshelf on the far end of the room and a desk that was no doubt intended for filing paper work. As convenient as it was, he found himself wondering why…

“Graveyard shift. It was mandated that at least five members of staff be present at the hall at all times, which included when the patients were meant to be sleeping. Laurence made it so the one’s staying here could find a retreat, somewhere where they could recuperate in peace.” She explained almost as if she was reading his mind.

The door remained open as she turned to look at him, seemingly waiting for him to say something. The only problem was, he had no clue how to go forward from here.

“So-what now?” He asked her, hoping she would be able to get them started.

“That depends. Are you certain this is what you desire?” There was no doubt in his mind in regards to that, but instead of expressing it verbally, he instead took the door by the handle and slowly eased it shut behind them, separating them from the world outside. Upon this action, Maria’s lips curled into a slight, pleasant smile.

“Very well. Come along.” Taking him by the hand, she led him over to where the bed stood. He was undeniably nervous about what lay ahead, most of it stemming from whether he would amount to anything during this encounter. In any case, he’d certainly try.

After they reached the bed, Maria simply sat down on its edge and reached behind her head, undoing her ponytail and letting her shoulder-length hair to fall free. She then set about undoing the laces of her boots; after doing this for a little while, she looked up at him expectantly and motioned for him to sit as well as he remained standing in confusion. Pushing aside his momentary embarrassment, he sat down beside her and after taking off his intrusive gauntlets, he set about removing his greaves. The task proved rather cumbersome, but he eventually set them down side by side, allowing some relief for his aching legs.

He froze up when he felt a pair of arms wrap around his waist from behind, followed by a sultry voice whispering something in his ear.

“Would you like some help?”

When words failed him, his eyes glanced over to where Maria had been just a moment ago, finding nothing except her boots and jacket in her place. Now that his surprise at her initiative had subsided, he found himself curious as to what she had in store for him. 

“Why yes, my lady. I would.” He responded with as much confidence as he could muster.

“Mmm, so I see. And I'd be willing to indulge you, but first, I want you to do something for me.” The manner in which she spoke those words left him quivering in anticipation. 

"And what would that be?" He inquired.

“Close your eyes, and don't move an inch.” He complied, leaving him to rely on his other senses in order to gauge what was happening around him. As he sat crossed leg on the bed, he could hear the sounds of curtains closing behind him, to his side and just in front of him before he felt her hands on him once more.

“Forget the hunt. Forget whatever lies beyond this room. Let this be our moment. Where I grant you the fulfillment you so rightly deserve…” Just hearing her speak in such a sensual and intimate way had him tingling with anticipation. But before she proceeded, she whispered one more thing to him.

“Let me liberate you, my beloved…”

Zoran could feel her hands running along his armor-clad body, just as he could feel her breath against his neck and her hair settling against his shoulders. After a moment of tense anticipation, her lips brushed against his neck, causing his breath to catch in his throat from the unexpected contact. Maria slowly and meticulously unbuckled each strap holding his breastplate and decorative cape in place, placing gentle kisses on the back and sides of his neck all the while.

The breastplate eventually came off, bringing along a certain sense of liberation that he was finally free of that infernal armor. And that there was now one less obstacle between him and his impending lover. He could sense that she had now begun to undo the top few buttons of white linen shirt that had been worn beneath his armor; a few moments later and she was kissing along his exposed shoulder, her hair brushing against his skin as she traced a path back to his neck.

“Maria…” He quietly uttered in between his breaths in order to urge her on, relishing her every touch.

She carried the pleasant scent of the flowers outside her tower, which seemed almost intoxicating due to her proximity to him. The fact he couldn’t see her only added to her allure and continued to build up his desire for her. She was now approaching the middle of his shirt and finding himself unable to control his impulses, his hands moved to meet hers…

“Now, now. Don’t be hasty. You’ll get your chance soon enough. For now, just sit back. Relax.” Maria sensually whispered to him before she gently nibbled on his earlobe. Shutting his eyes, he fully succumbed to her worship, letting the pleasure she was bestowing upon him overwhelm his senses.

As the last of his buttons were undone, Zoran could feel the cold air of the room come into contact with his bare chest. After Maria had taken off his shirt, she pressed her chest against his bare back and begun to trace her gloveless hands all over his chest, until they came to a stop at a certain point; without even needing to look, he knew exactly what she had discovered.

“Open your eyes.”

He finally peeled them open and looked down at his chest; more aptly, the multitude of scars and fading wounds that were strewn across it. A bullet wound on his shoulder he received from the Turks at Shipka Pass. A set of three claw marks from the beast inside Iosefka’s Clinic. A circular wound on his stomach from when he was skewered by a spear-wielding beast. Remnants of the burns inflicted on him by the watchdog in the labyrinths. But there was one in particular that drew his lover’s attention.

He smiled as her hand ran along the sensitive mark stretching from his shoulder to his hip; the mark she had left on him. After letting her explore it for several more moments, he turned to face Maria and found that she too was smiling. With her hair draped over her shoulders and her skin modestly covered by her undershirt, she looked absolutely breathtaking. But what stood out the most to him was how she was looking at him, every trace of her expression showing nothing but adoration and affection for him.

Gazing into her sea green eyes, he saw no sign of the all-consuming emptiness he had seen when she had pulled him close in their very first encounter. Instead, they were radiating with warmth, showing him the beauty that lay behind the tortured veil. The _real_ Maria.

The Maria he fell in love with.

Without saying a word, he gently placed a hand on her cheek and brushed through her hair, slowly closing the distance between them. Gently kissing her on the lips, he broke away after a few seconds before resuming it soon after. The kiss gradually increased in intensity until Maria was lying on her back, returning the gesture with equal vigor as their hands ran across each-other’s bodies.

His waiting had payed off. Now, he would savor every waking moment with her.

He set about slowly unbuttoning her undershirt with one of his hands and moved in to kiss along her neck, being rewarded by her soft, quiet moans as she shifted her head to grant him better access. Her fingers ran through his hair as she writhed beneath him and as the last button of her shirt came undone, his hand trailed along her exposed flesh to gently fondle one of her breasts.

“Zoran…” He heard her softly utter his name, her voice dripping with desire. And to hear her express such pleasure from his actions brought him a surge of pride, in no small part from just how heavenly she had sounded. Gods above, he loved her voice.

Breaking away from her neck, he let Maria sit up so they could strip her of her undone shirt, leaving her upper body completely bare. Almost as soon as it came off, the two of them were kissing again, their hands running along each-other’s bodies. Wrapping an arm around his back, she moved herself up and surprised him by shifting him in such a way that he was now on his back; the two briefly giggled before resuming their kiss.

“Didn’t you say you’ve never done this before?” She teased as she broke their kiss for a brief, though their lips remained only a hair’s breadth apart.

“I may’ve done a little pleasure reading in my spare time.” He said in response just before he playfully brushed his lips against hers.

“Mmm, you naughty boy.” Her voice was scarcely above a whisper as she said this, but hearing this invoked a strange feeling within him.

“How about it? Does a fair maiden such as yourself fancy a little mischief?” Daring as it was, it seemed to have it’s intended effect, for Maria’s lips spread into a devilish smirk.

“I’d much rather show then tell.” His curiosity piqued, Zoran could only smile himself.

“Fine by me.” He said just before their lips met yet again. She was so gentle, and yet so assertive in her action that he did not hesitate in succumbing to her.

Her lips trailed along his jaw and chin, before gradually shifting her attention to other parts of his body. Moving down, she trailed her lips across the mark she had left on him, its presence dwarfing any of the others. It was quite sensitive to the touch and Zoran’s breath hitched at the contact, but there was something strangely fulfilling about the way she treated it; almost with reverence.

It was what brought them together, after all.

Soon, Maria was travelling down along his torso, their eyes remaining locked as her worship of him continued. A sense of anticipation persisted as she turned her attention to removing his trousers, undoing them painstakingly slowly. But what caught his attention the most was just how confident she appeared then, fully aware of the effect she was having on him. He watched intently as she simultaneously rid him of his remaining articles of clothing and finally freed his constrained erection, which stood ready for her to claim.

Maintaining eye contact with him, Maria began to slowly stroke his member, with Zoran doing little to hide the pleasure her actions was bringing him. His head was now resting on a pillow and he chose to let her do whatever she pleased. Yet he was caught of guard when he felt her lips trail up his erection, letting out a noticeable groan; promptly looking over to see her looking at him with an amused expression.

“What’s this? A hunter caught of his guard?” With a soft giggle, she engulfed his manhood with her lips and slowly began to bob her head up and down, eliciting several more groans from him as she took him within her mouth. And through it all, she looked up at him through her white bangs, a hint of mischief in her eyes as one of her hands fondled his scrotum as well.

“My God. Maria…” He gripped the covers as he grew ever closer to loosing himself in pleasure. This was unlike anything he’d ever experienced. And he wanted more. Oh, so much more.

After some time, she ceased her efforts and looked up at him; a silent understanding passing between them as to what would happen next. His desire for her was now at a fever pitch and as she hovered over him, he was more then prepared to fully claim her as his own.

But then he remembered that this was meant to be a mutual expression of love, where they both were to give pleasure rather then receive it. And he wanted to please her. To show her just how much their union truly meant to him.

“Shall we?” She whispered as their lips hovered just above each other.

“Not just yet.” He said in response just before he shifted his weight so he was now on top of her; his partner letting out a surprised yelp at his initiative. Her hair was now sprawled across the bed-sheets as she looked up at him in surprise and he gently ran his hand along the side of her head before he claimed her lips again; a kiss she soon returned with equal vigor.

“My, my. You finally have me at your mercy. How does it feel?” She teased him after their lips broke apart.

“A better question would be “What am I going to do now that you are?” He said in reply, with an eager smile making its way onto Maria’s face.

“Mmm, the suspense is killing me.” She said, signalling her interest.

“Then allow me to relieve you.” He said just before he kissed her again.

His hands ran down her body towards her lower half, slightly rubbing her covered womanhood and eliciting a muffled moan of acknowledgement. Zoran then set his attention to undoing her trousers and upon his eventual success began to make a beeline straight down. As his lips reached her abdomen, he gripped her trousers and undergarments with both hands, and as he grew ever closer to her loins, lowered them to reveal her womanhood.

Maria was now completely bare, save for the stockings she wore on her legs. Gods above, she was gorgeous. He had known so far before his feelings for her truly blossomed, but as she lay there in all her glory, she seemed like the most beautiful woman he had ever laid eyes on.

And he was not prepared to disappoint her.

Running his hands along her legs, taking in her alluring scent and admiring every inch of his lover’s frame. But as he approached her inner thighs, hesitation suddenly took him. He had never done anything like this before. It was his aim to please her after all, so how can he possibly do that if he hadn’t the faintest clue what he was doing.

“What’s wrong?” He heard Maria ask, taking notice of his hesitation.

“Oh, do forgive me. It’s just…I am still a novice at this, after all.” He frankly answered and to his surprise, her response was a simple, understanding smile.

“That’s quite alright. Just go at your own pace. There’s no need for us to rush things, wouldn’t you agree?” With this perspective fully in mind, Zoran descended on her inner thighs.

As he experimented, he paid particular attention to the noises Maria made as a result of his actions. When her breath hitched, he knew he had found a sensitive spot. When her moans became audible, he gradually increased the intensity of his current technique to gauge her reaction. And soon, he found his stride, licking and sucking her womanhood all while he massaged her legs with his hands.

“That’s perfect. Keep going. I knew you had…” Her words were interrupted by an expression of pleasure, which told him everything he needed to know. Zoran felt a sudden surge of pride that he had managed to please her, making it so her legs were arched at an angle and she was gripping the covers with her hands. And this newfound confidence gave way to a new, wicked desire.

Ceasing his efforts, he looked up at Maria, who was lying with her eyes closed and a look of pure bliss on her face; breathing through her mouth as she came down from her high. A devilish smile on his lips, he made his way back up to eye level with her, kissing along her neck as he trailed a hand down her stomach and back to her inner thighs. She let out a noticeable moan as he began to softly rub her womanhood, continuing this teasing until he decided to slip one of his fingers inside.

And he soon added a second. And then a third. And he made sure to keep his pleasuring of her slow, seeing as he didn’t want to hurt her on accident. But Maria showed no signs of discomfort. Quite the opposite, in fact. Her impassioned moaning still remained quiet, but he could tell he had her exactly where he wanted her. And with a devilish smile, he whispered a simple request into her ear.

“Do you want me?” 

“Yes.” She responded, her voice scarcely above a whisper.

“And what do you want me to do?” He continued on, feeling bolder by the second.

“Take me…” She answered after a brief interlude and his smile grew even wider.

“Is this what you want? Is it?” He asked partly to make sure she was certain, but also to indulge in the pride her desire stilled in him.

“Yes. Oh Gods, yes! Take me, Zoran. Make me yours!”

If that was what she wanted, then he would kindly oblige.

He stopped what he was doing and positioned himself above her, bringing his manhood tantalizingly close to her entrance. Her arms were now on his shoulders and she was looking up at him with unbridled longing in her eyes. She then offered him a small nod, signifying that she was ready.

He slowly began to ease himself into her, inducing a drawn-out moan from Maria as she tightened her hold on his shoulders, stopping once he was fully inside to both give them a moment to adjust. After a brief interlude, he took both of her hands in his, and as their fingers laced together, he commenced a slow, rhythmic pattern; lavishing her neck with gentle kisses as he made love to her.

Yes. That was what he was doing. This was the cementation of their union, where he would show her the full extent of his love for her. And by God, did it feel amazing.

Her legs wrapped around his waist and her grip on his hands tightened as they continued their passionate exchange. He relished the feeling of her skin. Her intoxicating scent. The loving way she whispered his name in his ear. But all that paled from what he saw when he looked her in the eye.

There was no mistaking the affection she exhibited through her gaze; the love she held for him. He had long ago lost hope that he would ever find that ever elusive bond, someone that he would want to spend the rest of his days with. And he had found it during his darkest hour, where he had all but lost his will to live. And she was the thing that guided him away from that dark road. Gave him a reason to carry on.

Their lips met yet again and this time, the two of them did not shy away from pouring everything they had into the kiss. He was so absorbed in it that he didn’t even react when she flipped him onto his back and took control of their intercourse, moving up and down on his member as they continued their passionate kiss. Supporting himself on an elbow, he ran a hand through her hair as the pleasure he felt grew more intense with every breath.

He recognized he could not contain himself much longer and soon, he was lying on his back, gripping Maria’s hips and rising to meet her descent. Her hands were on either side of his face and as their lips finally broke apart, she said something to him.

“I love you.” She repeated this declaration several times over and as much as he wanted to offer something similar, the words simply escaped him. As it was, he was completely mesmerized by the woman above him. And as they both grew ever closer to release, he found his tongue.

“So…beautiful…” He whispered as he reached out a hand and placed it on her cheek, their eyes locked as they both grew close to coming undone. As the pleasure in his loins reached a fever pitch, he lost himself in her gaze. In the softness of her skin. And the completeness he felt from sharing this with the one he loved.

The one who saved him.

“My…guiding…moonlight.”

He pulled her into another kiss and soon, he finally came undone. Euphoria settled over him as he released himself within her, which seemed to trigger her own release; her moaning muffled through their kiss. Once he knew they were finished, they broke apart and took a moment to catch their breath; their bodies glistening with sweat.

And they didn’t say anything. Instead, they closed their eyes and pressed their foreheads together, simply savouring their proximity to one another as they basked in the afterglow of their love-making. After maintaining this embrace for well over a minute, he felt Maria settle down beside him and nuzzle her face against his neck, which prompted him to pull the covers over them and hold her close to him.

As he lay there with his eyes closed, he could distinctly feel her hand slowly running across his chest. Across the mark she had left on him…

“A grave misstep, my dear hunter.” She teased him.

“That attack was rubbish and you know it.” He fired back in a playful tone, eliciting a slight chuckle from her.

“Perhaps.” She acknowledged as she continued to trail her hand across his chest. “But I don’t regret it for a moment...” After she said this, he placed his hand over hers, a content smile on his face.

“Neither do I...”

As sleep slowly crept up on him, Zoran felt a sense of…completeness. Like he had reclaimed a part of himself he lost long ago; or rather one he didn’t even realize he was missing. Holding Maria in his arms then, her body pressed against his, made him feel at ease. Secure. Happy.

Yes. He was happy. And if this was truly a nightmare, then he never wanted to wake up.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Author's Note: Yet again, this bloody chapter ended up taking up a majority of my time. I focused mostly on expanding on the backstory of Zoran's service to Cainhurst and how he had ended up in that position to begin with; which meant I had to take a few liberties regarding Annalise's motivations and character. I always felt like the way we the player get to know off and arrive in Cainhurst Castle to be rather strange, so I offered an explanation. 
> 
> So yeah, Annalise is a telepath and possesses a minor hypnotic ability, with the ardeo the Executioners wear serving partly to protect them from her influence. As for the whole "Child of Blood" business, it always struck me as odd that she would need to intake all those Blood Dregs to gain such a child when Arianna, who is most likely a descendant of hers can catch the attention of Oedon through her blood alone. So I hypothesized that she was slowly but surely augmenting herself with the blood of the "Echo Fiends" in order to create such a child without a Great One's interference and using the hunter she enraptured as a father. And no, this is in no way character bashing. I recognize that my version of Annalise is a departure from what she's portrayed as in game, but I felt like it fit within the story I was trying to tell. 
> 
> Oh yeah, and I added some smut. It was a pain to write. It also probably makes the other smut I posted a while ago redundant since I lifted so much from it, so later I think I will go back and change it to a description of the event from Maria's perspective. It was after all an exploration of what the two of them felt for each other.
> 
> And to close things off, if you're wondering why Zoran managed to carry on for so long, let's just say he put a lot of points into endurance.


	9. Der fiel mir aus den Händen

Zoran seemed to find himself in the Dream yet again, still distraught by the events that had transpired in Annalise's throne room only moments ago. Not even bothering to place his armour in the Workshop’s storage or to restock on essential supplies, he quickly began to make his way to the various tombstones lining its entrance, desperate to leave this forsaken plane.

He passed by the Doll, which stood in the same place he had found it, waiting to welcome him home. But all Zoran was willing to do by then was to briefly glance in her direction, before turning his head just as quickly to continue his trek. He was still uncertain on whether the Doll was able to comprehend emotion, but he noted what seemed like concern in her eyes. He knew she meant well, but after everything that had happened, she only seemed to remind him of what he could not have.

Finally reaching the tombstone, he knelt down before it and focused his attention on the lantern in the Grand Cathedral, so as to avoid being subject to the sight of Oedon Chapel after the events that transpired there.

"Good Hunter. What is it that troubles you?"

Zoran furrowed his brow as he heard the Doll's voice ring out beside him, which was the last thing he wanted to hear at that moment. This wasn't real. None of this was.

"Just go away..." He practically ordered, his words laced with contempt.

"But I..." As she attempted to argue, he shot to his feet and spun to face her, his eyes red and distraught.

"GET AWAY FROM ME!" He shouted at her, causing the Doll to recoil at the severity of his words. After a brief moment, she turned to walk away, allowing Zoran to turn his attention back to the headstone and begin to transport himself to the Cathedral.

But he found that his thoughts no longer seemed to reach it. And so, he tried to focus on the Great Bridge. And the Tomb of Oedon. And the Cathedral Ward. He found himself unable to transport himself to any of them.

Except for Central Yharnam.

Hoping to get to the bottom of this mystery, Zoran faded away into the dream’s ethereal grasp and found himself back at the location where his journey had truly begun. And immediately saw the body of the first Yharnamite he had met in his travels.

He vividly remembered Gilbert’s pained pleads to the Gods above as his sickness continued to consume his body. Concern for the man’s well-being had willed Zoran to return here, only to find himself under attack by a beast, who he slew without a second thought. It was only after it had collapsed to the ground when Zoran noticed the window through which he had spoken to Gilbert had been ripped apart from the inside and he found himself horrified when he realized what he had just done. And suddenly Djura’s words began to make sense.

But he noticed something else very close to Gilbert’s body, which upon closer inspection, he recognized as a note. Desperate for answers, he read the message sprawled on the small slip of paper.

“_you've come to the right place. let us cleanse these tarnished streets.”_

Zoran looked up from the message to see that a trail of shining coins led down into the left-hand path and through the dimly lit structure that led to the Great Bridge. As he followed the trail, he couldn’t help but notice that the numerous infected Yharnamites he had killed now seemed to be...decaying, having been forgotten by everyone, including him. The trail lead to the window where he had talked to Gascoigne’s daughter, the lamp inside having long ago gone out. He had left the little ribbon he had found in the sewers below as a memorial of sorts, but he noticed that it had gone missing. And that another note lay just below the windowsill.

“_take a step forward and remember the lost.”_

Confused by the request, Zoran stepped towards the edge; trying to spot what the person who left the note wanted him to see. His eyes eventually wandered downwards and the sight below caused his eyes to widen in shock. A small figure, laying in a pool of blood. Hurrying down the ladder, he ran to it and immediately deduced its identity.

It was the older sister. She had returned home and found the small ribbon he had left on the windowsill. Overcome with grief, she must have thrown herself over the side. And now the entire family was gone.

The tragedy just never seemed to end.

After taking a moment to regain his composure, he descended down into the aqueduct. Following the trail of coins down to the ladder that took him back up to the Cathedral Ward, he continued to follow it across the bridge and into the ruins of the Tomb of Oedon, the unfortunate final resting place of Father Gascoigne. His beastly corpse still lay among the shattered tombstones, the bodies of his beloved Viola and his estranged partner Henryk not far away. It made Zoran sick to the stomach to see him in such a state. He had been the best Yharnam had to offer; a kind and charitable man who continued to hunt to protect his community and his family. He had saved his life once upon a time and helped in his recovery when no-one else would. And now he was gone, killed by the very man he had rescued.

Zoran realized quickly that the lantern in the area had been destroyed and that another note had been left by it’s remains.

“_nothing but blood-addled hunters here. pitiful, really”_

Zoran begun to feel unnerved by the messages. Whoever was leaving them was obviously trying to send a message, but who it was and what they were trying to accomplish remained a mystery. Seeing no other option, he continued to follow the trail of coins until it brought him to the ladder that led to the basement of Oedon Chapel. Understandably hesitant to enter, Zoran noticed yet another message lying on a nearby chair.

“_safe place waits ahead.”_

He felt a sudden surge of dread, realizing that whoever was leaving these messages knew of what had happened in that Chapel. And he couldn’t help but feel he was being watched.

Darting up the ladder, he ran into the interior of what he once considered a safe haven and was forced to lay witness to the long-cold bodies of the people he sent there. The lantern there had also been destroyed and yet another message lay in the middle of the chapel.

“_you're in the know, right?_ _it is all thanks to you.”_

Zoran eyes darted around the cathedral, an unmistakable fear gripping him. Unable to handle it’s sight any longer, he rushed outside and prostrated himself on the pavement, the guilt he felt for the massacre return with a vengeance. All he wanted was to help them. He never meant for this to happen!

After regaining some semblance of control, he noticed the trail of coins yet again, this time leading up the stairwell to the Grand Cathedral. The bodies of the church servants lined the steps as Zoran began his trek up the vast quantity of stairs, willing himself to continue on despite the dread he now felt. The trail seemed to end at the entrance to the cathedral, where another note awaited him.

“_do not forget. A hunter should hunt beasts.”_

No…..

Every one of his senses told him to turn and flee, but Zoran forced himself forward, still hoping that he was wrong about the identity of his tormentor. Sensing he was now at the point of no return, Zoran ran up the stairs towards the interior of the cathedral, fully expecting the one who has been leaving these messages to await him. But all he saw when he made it to the top was an empty room, with nothing but a broken lantern in the centre. Confusion overtaking him, Zoran made his way to the broken lamp, desperate to find answers. And discovered one final note.

“_leave the hunting of hunters to me.”_

He heard a faint sound coming from behind him. As if someone were flipping a coin.

Fear caused him to freeze in place, realizing that whoever was behind him was the one who had organized this. And he knew exactly who it was. Finally gaining enough courage to slowly turn himself around, Zoran laid his eyes on the architect of this dark trip down memory lane.

“Eileen?”

The crow-feather garbed Hunter of Hunters stood at the entrance to the Cathedral, her expressionless plague-mask pointed directly at the one she had spurred on in the early hours of the hunt. He had not seen her since they had slain Henryk together after his ascension to the Ward, after which she had seemingly disappeared into the night. But clearly, she was still out on the prowl.

And she had a new mark.

“Don’t you ever listen to your elders?” She questioned him in a disappointed tone.

The shock had not yet subsided, preventing Zoran from offering a response.

“I warned you, didn’t I? To try and keep your hands clean. But you’re knee deep in it now, aren’t you, you sorry drunk?” She paused then, staring the hunter down before asking a single question.

“How many?” Zoran immediately understood what she was here for.

“You don’t understand. I didn’t…”

“HOW MANY!!!” She shouted across the desolate cathedral, causing Zoran to back away in fear. Still, he did not provide an answer.

“I suppose it isn’t your fault. Few hunters can resist the intoxication of the hunt. Look at you, just the same as all the rest. The hunt makes hunters mad and I’m the only one who can stop this madness.” Eileen slowly began to walk towards Zoran, her cloak flowing behind her as she pulled out the signature weapon of a hunter of hunters.

“I didn’t want it to come to this, but I cannot allow you to abscond your crimes.” She said as she split the weapon in two.

“Your punishment is death.”

Zoran began to realize the desperate situation he found himself in. He had left his axe behind in the Workshop storage before he had traveled to meet Alfred in the throne room and he was dangerously low on vials from all the previous battles he had fought. The only thing he had on him was his flintlock pistol, five bullets and an array of small projectiles. But even if he fell here, he could always come back…

The lanterns! She had destroyed them to prevent him from waking up again. There was no escape. He had only one chance to make it out of this alive.

Eileen was upon him soon after, swiping at the hunter with her dual blades, which Zoran managed to narrowly evade. Dashing backwards, Zoran pulled out a tiny canister and drained it dry just as Eileen thrust forward with both of her blades, which bounced harmlessly of his body. Utilizing the brief breach in her defenses, he pulled out a poison-laced dagger and tossed it in her direction, though she evaded it with little effort.

As Zoran felt the effects of the lead elixir wear off, he fired off a shot from his pistol, hoping to hit her as she was stationary. But Eileen clearly foresaw this and dashed forward, slicing across Zoran’s chest with both blades. Zoran stumbled back from the blow, throwing a small Molotov cocktail behind him. He knew it wouldn’t hit her, but he knew it would put some distance between them. He just needed some time to…

A glass object shattered against his back and a thick mist quickly enveloped him, his life essence seemingly going numb. Though he was disorientated from the sudden obstruction, Zoran immediately recognized the substance, for he had used it numerous times in his time in Cainhurst’s service. And he knew what it signified. The healing blood was now useless.

As he desperately reached for his pistol, he felt a sudden searing pain in his left shoulder, which was then followed by several more all across his torso. Casting his gaze downwards, he saw that several serrated blades had been embedded in his chest. As his body was plagued with excruciating pain, he collapsed to his knees, the effects of the mist leaving him too weak to reach for a vial. 

There was little chance Eileen’s possession of it was coincidental. It was all part of her elaborate hunt.

“Why did you do it? Why couldn’t you have just killed me?” Zoran questioned the huntress through labored breaths.

“You lost your chance for mercy the moment you became one of Cainhurst’s lapdogs. You forsook the Hunter’s oath. Harvested the blood of dozens of your fellows. It’s only fair you meet the same fate your victims did.” Eileen explained coldly, before dashing towards him with an unnatural speed and impaling him through the stomach with her blade.

“Besides, without fear in our hearts, we’re no better than the beasts themselves.” She said before kicking him to the ground.

As Zoran lay there in a pool of his own blood, he felt like this was exactly what he deserved. So much suffering had transpired in his wake, so many had perished by his hand. And now he was on death’s door, about to be executed by the only friend he had left.

His friend. He did consider her to be his friend. But after what she had done to him, how she forced him to relive all those terrible memories, how could he still view her as such? She betrayed him. Just like all the rest.

“No more dreams for you.” Eileen said as she pressed her boot against his neck and pointed her pistol at him.

He felt something else overtake him then, something that he had kept bottled up for the entirety of the Hunt.

Rage.

Zoran let out a blood curdling scream, the intensity of which sent Eileen flying backwards. He slowly rose to his feet, growling aggressively as his eyes were set on the Crowfeather garbed Hunter. Using whatever sense of self he had left, he pulled out an item that had been prohibited by the Healing Church and popped the pellet into his mouth, before letting out yet another yell as both of his hands transformed into beastly claws.

Eileen had managed to get back up, looking on at the display before her.

“Have you got a screw loose? Or is this just your survival instinct?”

Urged on by a mixture of anger and desperation, he charged towards her with reckless abandon, barely reacting to the numerous wounds on his body. Launching himself forward, he propelled himself in Eileen’s direction, who just managed to evade the attack. But before she could react, he slashed her across the chest and then slashed her again. And again. And again. And again. And with every strike, their effects seem to grow more pronounced.

“Your blood is mine! A hunter’s blood for me!!" Zoran yelled at the top of his lungs, having lost all sense of self-control.

By the end of his rampage, Eileen lay battered and broken against the altar of the First Vicar, drawing in labored breaths as a now hunched over Zoran continued to approach her, no longer in control of his actions. The beast hood had begun to consume him.

“We’re you not once a hunter? Is this sincerely what you want?” Eileen suddenly blurted out, causing the Hunter to stop his advance. Her blade tumbled out of her hands as the hunter of hunters clutched her numerous wounds, drawing in several desperate breaths.

“You can’t go on like this...”

The effects of the pellet began to wear off and the claws soon reverted back to their natural state, all while he stared at the Crow’s broken body, horror gripping him when he realized what he had just done.

He stumbled over to where Eileen lay motionlessly, barely making it over to her before collapsing by her side, who did not even shift in response. He frantically tried to shake her awake, quietly uttering her name as he did. But he soon realized he was in denial.

He had lost control. She was dead. Everyone was dead.

For reasons he did not understand, he reached for her mask; slowly peeling it away to reveal her…

“Zo..ran. H…help…me…”

He scrambled backwards in terror as he realized that it was not Eileen that lay before him now, but rather the body of his dear sister Olena; her mangled upper half laying in a heap as blood pooled around her. And he now had her blood on his hands.

A breeze suddenly brushed across his face and a revolting smell overtook his senses. His head shooting from side to side, he quickly recognized he was no longer in the Cathedral, but in a desolate, burning village. The first thing he noticed was an impoverished man crawling towards him, looking up with unbridled terror in his eyes.

“Run…if you value…your life. The Cossacks…are coming…” He weakly warned before collapsing to the ground, his back riddled with numerous gunshot wounds.

Zoran could only look on in horror at the scene before him, certain that he was now in one of dozens of villages he and his comrades had laid siege to in the Tsar’s name; its victims forgotten as they prepared for their next campaign. He couldn’t look away as he stared at the burning and looted houses and the corpses of the people they had murdered in cold blood. And despite how vivid this recreation was, Zoran came to a startling realization.

He didn’t even remember what it was called.

“I had hoped you learned from what happened here, my boy.”

Zoran’s eyes shot open as an all too familiar voice came from behind him. This couldn’t be real.

Slowly turning his head so he could look behind him, he saw his father; wearing his full uniform as he gently held Olena’s mangled corpse in his arms, his light-brown horse standing just off to his side.

“When I sent you away, I held on to the hope that you would abandon this life; that you would start anew and forego the call of duty. To live out the rest of your days a free man, as a proper Cossack should. That… was my last wish.” He said as he began to lower his daughter to the ground.

“But for better or worse, one thing you were never good at was following orders.” He said as he finally looked in his direction. As his father spoke, a clear and obvious undertone was present in his words.

One of disappointment.

“Father, I…I didn’t…”

“Yes, I’m sure. Yet, it seems, no matter how much you deny it, you will always be little more then an attack dog; leaping back into the fray at the first smell of blood.” He said to silence him, climbing atop his horse and staring down his son with a look of regret.

“You…you don’t…” Zoran struggled to form his words, as desperate as he was to prevent was about to happen.

“I wish it weren’t so…” As he said this, he brandished his saber.

“But I’m putting you down.”

With that, he charged towards him, holding the reigns of his steed with one hand and his sabre with the other. Breaking out of his stupor, Zoran scrambled to the side to avoid the incoming beast and continued to run as his father turned around and fired off several shots from his pistol as he circled around and resumed his charge.

Plucking an abandoned saber from the ground, Zoran stood his ground against the incoming threat; blocking his fathers attempted strike and pulling out his own pistol to try and fire at the horse; only to interrupted as a stinging pain ran across his back. Recovering just in time to avoid being trampled underneath the horse’s hooves, he watched as his father charged towards him yet again; waiting for him to get close enough…

The horse cried out in pain as he managed to hit it with a bullet and tumbled to the ground, casing his father to fall of his saddle and land hard on the ground. Despite the clear opportunity it presented, Zoran could not bring himself to take advantage of his weakness, only being able to watch as he rose to his feet and once again brandished his saber.

His hat had been knocked off from his fall, revealing a single long lock of hair on an otherwise cleanly shaved head; proof of his long-time service to the Host.

“Just as I taught you...”

Zoran prepared himself as his father rushed towards him, remembering that even in his later years, he was not an opponent to be trifled with. They proceeded to trade blows, skillfully deflecting and responding to each other’s attacks; but through it all, he recognized just how much his father had been holding back during their training.

“Father, stop! I don’t want to do this! Please!” He pleaded with him as they found themselves at a standstill, until his father broke it by purposefully pulling back and letting him tumble forward. Before he could recover, he felt the pain ring up his back yet again, dropping him to his knees before it connected once more.

By the time it stopped, Zoran was prostrating himself on the ground, his back racked with pain as his eyes glazed with tears. Forcing himself to look back, he saw that his father was holding a leather whip in his hand, one that was used for spurring horses.

And flogging those who did harm to their fellow Cossacks.

“Life is about hard choices, Zoran. I told you that once, didn’t I?” 

Zoran weakly rose up so he was on his knees, but did no rise any further. He was not prepared to fight anymore.

“Do it…”

As he knelt in the dirt, he could hear his father approach from behind, his saber hovering by the side of his neck. But he didn’t pay it any attention. He just closed his eyes and waited for the strike to connect. For this nightmare to finally be over.

A noise came from his left, but it wasn’t the sound of a blade cutting through the air. Instead, he opened his eyes and found that his father’s saber was imbedded in the ground, as he stood with his back turned to him just a few steps away.

“Such a miserable display.” He grumbled, any sense of affection absent from his voice.

“Father, please, I…” He began to plead, his voice hoarse and desperate.

“You are no son of mine.”

Zoran was shocked into silence, his father’s statement cutting deeper then any blade could ever hope to. As he knelt on the ground in stunned silence, he could scarcely make out the sound of his father walking away, not even sparing a glance at him.

“Nothing but a waste of skin after all…”

After the sound of his footsteps faded, Zoran prostrated himself in the dirt, weakly weeping as the crackling sound of the flames continued behind him.

_“Maledictus.”_

_ "You plague-ridden rat!"_

_“"You are not wanted here!"_

_“Hah hah hah... A night of curses, a night to remember! Wouldn't you say, friend?”_

_“Inficimur”_

“_Beasts all over the shop. You’ll be one of them, sooner or later.”_

_“Thank you, mister hunter! I love you almost as much as mum and dad!”_

_“Just go away, now! I can't stand the stench of your lyin' breath."_

_“"Oh, how did we ever get into this mess?"_

_"Oh hello. You weren’t lying. This is a safe place."_

_“Mater's sanguine. Redemptionis risa se. Exiet exiet, flebatur a salis”_

_“Why... me... why...Dear gods, what have I done? Save me, please... Save me...”_

_“In the name of the Healing Church, cleanse us of this horrible dream…”_

_“"I only wanted to help… Just once in my life… I should've known, I should've… Gods, please, I'm sorry, so sorry…"_

_“Vale, vale”_

_“Unclean wench! Wile Monstrosity! Bloody fool!”_

_“Oh Amygdala, have mercy on the poor bastard.”_

_“An unsightly beast…a great terror looms…”_

_“Drip drop…slip slop…”_

_“It’s you.. you’re the beast…”_

"_Oh, you are a sick puppy! You drink the blood of half the town, and now this! And you talk of beasts? You hunters are the real killers!”_

_“Oh majestic. A hunter is a hunter even in a dream.”_

The voices seemed to overlap as Zoran desperately clutched his head. All the while, he could hear that infernal chanting that seemed to radiate in Yahar-gul, which seemed to be getting closer with each passing moment, just as the voices began to blur together in an incomprehensible mess.

“Stop it. Stop it. Get out of my head. LEAVE ME ALONE!!”

He looked in the direction of a bright light shining down on him, revealing a blood-red moon that seemed to be on a collision course with the town he was in.

_“SANGUINE! SANGUINE!”_

The chanting was all Zoran could hear now, seemingly unable to look away from the impending object. And at the centre, he could see the outline of something else. Something otherworldly.

“Zoran. Zoran.” He could faintly make out another voice in the back of his mind, but his attention was fixed on the moon, which was now so large it seemed to eclipse the entire sky.

“ZORAN, WAKE UP!”

………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………….

He woke with a start, his heart racing, his breath heavy and his skin coated in sweat. Shooting upwards into a sitting position, his eyes darted around in terror; only to find he was lying in bed. No hunters, no beasts, no eldritch abominations, no blood moon. Just another decrepit, empty tower in an uncaring world.

He was alone. They were all gone now. And it was all his fault.

“I’m sorry. I’m so sorry.” He begged for forgiveness despite knowing that no one was there to listen. Everyone was dead. Yharnam was done for. And now he could never sleep in peace again.

“Somebody…help me. Free me from this forsaken dream, before I go mad." His pleading was met with silence. "Anybody? Please…?” He began to sob again, suddenly feeling more useless then ever before.

“Zoran?”

His eyes flew open when he heard the familiar voice, surprised that someone else seemed to be here with him. He slowly turned his head in the direction he had heard it from and even with the intense panic that gripped him then, it was lessened slightly when he saw who the voice belonged to.

“Maria?”

She was by his side, her body completely bare as her usually constrained white hair flowed freely over her shoulders; the sight of her taking his breath away. He remembered then. The night of passion that they had spent together, culminating in them falling asleep in each other’s arms. It had seemed almost like a dream.

Not yet certain if he was awake, he slowly reached out his hand, not breaking her concerned gaze for a moment. He gently placed it on her cheek, her skin just as soft as he had remembered; though he fully expected her to fade away into nothing right and there. But instead, she placed her hand on top of his, her lips forming into a small smile as she did so.

“Hello, good hunter.”

There was such warmth in her gaze, a look that had completely entranced him the night before as they consummated their union. But it wasn’t just a mindless affair, it had been something far greater. He _wanted _to please her, to show her just how much she truly mattered to him. And it was clear to him throughout that the same objective was on her mind as well.

But in the last few moments of their intercourse, she dropped any and all pretenses; breathlessly declaring her love for him as they unraveled.

His mind suddenly hearkened back to something Ludwig had said to him before he died, something he had payed little mind to until that point. How he had seen a thread of light, such a fleeting thing in the grand scheme of things. But he clung to it, for it allowed him to see the moonlight, even in the darkest of nights.

Until even that was extinguished.

He pulled her into an embrace, desperately holding on to her as the panic he felt before returned in full force.

“I could hear them. So many voices. All snuffed out because of me.” He began to break down, the terror he felt from his nightmare having not yet subsided.

“Shhhhhh. It’s alright. It was only a dream.” She said while gently returning his embrace, no doubt trying to calm him down. But her words had little effect. The only words that resonated then were the ones the wicked apparition of his late father had spewed at him.

“I’m a failure.”

“Don’t say that…” Maria seemed to grip him tighter then.

“I failed my compatriots. I failed my family. I failed the people of Yharnam. The people I saved. Gascoigne. Olena. I failed them all!” Zoran exclaimed as his eyes welled with tears.

“I'm a poison. I destroy everything I touch. No matter what I do-someone suffers because of it. Again, and again. It never ends.” Zoran had completely broken down at this point, burying his head in Maria’s shoulder as he continued to hold on to her.

“I don’t want to fail you too, Maria. Don’t leave me…please...”

All of a sudden, he felt his frayed nerves begin to relax themselves. The ringing within his head slowly dissipated and his erratic breathing slowed, and Zoran soon found himself struggling to keep his eyes open. But through all this, he felt Maria tighten her hold on him.

And then he heard her voice again.

“You don’t deserve this. You don’t deserve to fear closing your eyes. You don’t deserve to be trapped in this nightmare. You don’t deserve any of this!”

His arms fell limply to his side, and he soon felt himself being gently lowered onto the bed. But before his consciousness faded away yet again, he managed to catch a fleeting outline of Maria’s face as she looked down at him.

“I need you…”

………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………….

Zoran woke up again several hours later, finding himself struck by a splitting headache. He couldn’t remember what it was that caused it, but he waited for the pain to subside before he attempted to sit up. Though his vision was a bit blurred, he immediately recognized that he was still in the room where he and Maria had…

“You’re awake.”

He looked to his side to find Maria sitting fully clothed on a chair by the bedside. How long had she been there, he wondered? And what had spurred her awake so much earlier than him?

“I would say good morning, but at this point I doubt it will ever come.” He said in a humorous tone, though Maria did not seem to react to Zoran’s words, appearing to be lost in her thoughts.

“Is something wrong?” He asked in concern and even then, she did not respond to his question for a few seconds. Rising to her feet, she looked down at him with an unexpectedly solemn expression.

“Get dressed and come to the gardens. We need to talk.” She instructed before she turned to exit the room.

Taking a moment to ponder what it was that troubled her, he looked around the room to see that the only clothing he had to put on then was the armour he had worn during his service to Cainhurst. Not keen on the idea of putting it on again, he knelt down on the floor and whispering a small message, waited for his messengers to deliver him the garb that Maria had gifted him, which had been left behind in the Workshop’s storage.

Getting dressed, he made his way towards the gardens; a sense of dread following him throughout. What could she possibly want to talk to him about? Had he overstepped his bounds the night before? Or was it possible that she was…No, how could that be? She couldn’t possibly still be fertile in her current state. Could she?

Casting this thought to the back of his mind, he continued his journey; entering the gardens and almost immediately spotting her leaning against one of the railings, looking out into the distant recesses of the Nightmare.

“Well? What is it we needed to talk about?” His demand was met with silence and his concern grew. “Maria?” He tried to get her attention, but she still appeared withdrawn.

“Listen, if you have regrets, there’s no need to hide them. I'll understand if…” He began, believing he had found the source of her unease.

“No, it’s nothing like that. I just…need a little air, is all.” Maria finally found her tongue, but he could somehow tell she was evading the reason she had summoned him here.

“You don’t need to hide anything from me. Tell me what’s on your mind.” A tense silence fell between the two until Maria seemingly mustered the courage to look at him, the hunter immediately noticing the saddened expression on her face.

“Zoran, I… We can’t do this anymore.” She finally said, struggling to get the words out. Zoran backed away from her slightly and looked at her in shock, not wanting to believe what he had just heard.

“But you said...I thought that…” He struggled to formulate a response.

“This has gone on for far too long. We have both forgotten the original purpose for our agreement.” She tried to explain.

“But…but I….” He began, but Maria rose from her position by the railing and interrupted him.

“No, you don’t! You don’t love _me_; you love an idea. An idealized portrait of me that you painted in your mind. And I understand. You were alone and needed an outlet for your repressed feelings; feelings that you projected onto me. But this…this isn’t love. I don’t know what it is.” He was stunned into silence, his heart sinking into his stomach. But soon, this boiled into frustration that after all this time; she would choose to dictate how he should feel.

“And what about you, then?”

This question seemed to push Maria into a corner, struggling to form a retort.

“It doesn’t matter what I feel for you…” She said, her voice low and laced with regret.

“Does it? Then what do you have to say about your actions and words over the past few days? Was all of that just a lie?” He demanded in indignation, leaving her horrified by the conclusion he’d reached.

“No, of course not. I would never…” She tried to explain herself, before he decided to interject once again.

“So, the both of us made a mistake. Is that what you’re trying to tell me?” He continued his interrogation, but it seemed that Maria’s own patience was wearing thin.

“_I _made a mistake by letting you get to close. Whether I like it or not, I was responsible for you; responsible for ensuring the boundaries we set were respected.” She told him, though this only stoked his anger with her further.

“I am not your patient!” He asserted; his hands clenched into fists.

“But you _were _vulnerable! We both were! And somewhere down the road I forgot that, desperate as I was to feel something again. I longed for someone, _anyone_, to break that horrid feeling of loneliness that has gripped me for so long. I never meant for this to go beyond our first meeting, but I couldn’t go back to that same bloody cycle that has befallen us. I didn’t want to be alone again.” Maria’s voice seemed to falter at several points, but the impact of her words was just as strong.

“But I realize now that maintaining bonds in the lives we lead is impossible, for they always seem to end in betrayal and death. There is no happiness to be found here; especially for people like us.”

Even as Maria concluded her monologue, Zoran found himself unable to accept the possibility that all this was a mistake. That their entire relationship up until this point had been built on false foundations. Why else would he feel the way he did now?

“The only times I’ve felt true happiness was when I was with you.” Zoran admitted with a slightly lowered head.

“Whatever it is you feel for me, Zoran, it isn’t real. None of this is. We were both desperate for interaction and we lost sight of who we truly are.” Maria said, attempting to stifle the conversation, which caused Zoran to snap at her.

“I know exactly what I am! I have lost everything to this Godforsaken city; my family, my honor, even my own bloodline! I know that if you hadn’t spared me, I would have ended up drunk with blood; wallowing in madness in this accursed nightmare, if I was lucky enough not to have lost myself to beast hood. I am only here now because of you, Maria. And that is not a lie.”

She stared at him, clearly wanting to argue but also struggling to find the words to respond with. After a while, she turned her gaze away from him, seemingly struggling to hold back tears.

“I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to…” He attempted to apologize before Maria interrupted him.

“No. No, this is all my fault. I shouldn’t have led you on like this. We shouldn’t even be having this conversation.” She leaned against the railing, trying her hardest to keep her composure.

“Maria, if all this was nothing but another mistake, then for once in my life, I’m glad to have been a fool.” He joined her at the railing as he said this.

“These meetings, they’ve given me something to look forward to. Somewhere to escape from the madness consuming every inch of Yharnam and beyond. I felt like I found someone who I could be honest with, someone who truly understands me. I....” He trailed of, struggling to find the proper words.

“I don’t want to lose that. To lose you. It’s all I have left.” Silence settled over the gardens as the two of them gazed into the distance, both of them trying to make sense of the situation they found themselves in.

“I meant what I said.” Maria suddenly broke the silence.

“What?” Zoran asked, not entirely sure what she was referring to.

“That I don’t regret our fellowship. That I’m proud of you.” She turned to face him; a sad, but genuine smile on her face.

“That I love you.”

Zoran felt a brief flicker of hope, making it seem like he had a chance to stop her from going forward with this. But this almost immediately died when he saw the guilt-ridden expression that replaced her welcoming smile.

“But no matter what I feel; no matter how much I want to remain with you, it will only ensure that the burden you carry will only grow heavier. You deserve so much more then what has been given to you. You deserve a chance to move past all of this, to forge a life free of misfortune and woes. And you will never find that here. Not with me...” His heart seemed to hammer against his chest as he realized what she meant.

“I won't let you bind yourself to this nightmare on my behalf.”

Zoran felt that familiar feeling of hopelessness return as he struggled to come to terms with her statement. This couldn’t be happening.

“No. No, no, Maria, I won’t. You can’t…”

Before he could finish, Maria wrapped an arm around his neck and pulled him into another kiss, the intensity of which sent him into a brief daze. Despite this, he soon found himself holding the side of her head returning the kiss with equal vigor. His mind seemed to go blank, unable to process anything but the slight breeze that blew through the gardens as he savored every passionate moment.

As this happened, he felt her hand grasp his free one and place something in his grip, instinctively closing his fist around it and allowing her to place his hand against his chest. She then reluctantly broke their kiss and simply looked into his eyes, still holding his hand. There it was again. That same feeling he had felt after she had taken of his mask. After their dance. During their passionate exchange just the night before. Except now it seemed even stronger, because he now found himself longing for all those moments they had shared together. She seemed so close to him now and yet so very far away.

Maria held his gaze for only a few moments before she hung her head, her face contorting in apparent guilt.

“This cannot happen.” She told him unequivocally.

“But Maria, I…” He tried to argue with her, but she pulled herself away from him, her eyes forced shut in what looked like an attempt to stop her from crying.

“You need to leave.” She reluctantly stated.

“Please. Don’t do this.” Zoran attempted to protest, despite knowing it was fruitless.

“The next time we meet, it will be as adversaries.”

As he stood there in complete shock, his throat constricting and his eyes brimming with tears, she did not move from her spot; appearing as if she was waiting for something. Looking down at his hand, he apprehensively unclenched his fist to see what she had given him. And when he saw it, his breath caught in his throat.

Her pendant. That emerald green brooch that she had worn on her collar. Having been so occupied with attempting to stop her from abandoning him, he hadn’t noticed that she wasn’t wearing it anymore. That simple, seemingly meaningless trinket that had cemented the union of her parents and one that she was meant to pass on to one she cherished above all else.

And she had passed it on to him.

Looking back up, he noticed that she had already begun her walk back towards the Clocktower, leaving Zoran feeling as if his feet were frozen to the ground. The one sliver of light on this long, dark road he had walked now seemed faint, and was in danger of being snuffed out. Everything he had cared about had been stolen from him already. He couldn’t lose her too. Not like this.

He began to desperately chase after her, but she was already a few steps away from the top of the stairwell when he began to catch up.

“Maria, wait!” He cried out desperately.

“Goodbye, Zoran.” She said with her back turned to him, not heeding his words. Managing to reach the top of the stairwell, he saw that she was just about to enter the Clocktower.

“I love you...”

This caused Maria to stop dead in her tracks, her back still turned. After several moments, she turned her neck ever so slightly, looking at Zoran out of the corner of her eye.

“I know.”

He called out her name one more time as she disappeared into the Clocktower, leaving Zoran alone once again.

………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………….

As she entered the Clocktower, something within Maria forced her to turn around, hoping to catch one more fleeting glance at the hunter; only to find her view obstructed by a thick fog that now blocked the entrance. It had seemingly vanished after her first session with Zoran, though at the time she did not pay it much attention. But now that it had returned, she knew exactly what it signified. The next time they met, one of them had to die.

She made her way back to her chair at the other end of the room, it’s burdening loneliness already beginning to take its toll on her. When she finally reached it, she could hardly bring herself to look at it, the painful memories it was associated with flooding into her head. As a sudden rage washed over her, she plucked her Rakuyo off the ground and with a cry, shattered the wooden chair in a single strike before tossing the weapon to the floor in disgust.

Taking a seat on the stairwell where she and Zoran had spent so much time on, she struggled to hold back the well of emotions that threatened to overwhelm her. Sending the hunter away had been one of the hardest things she had ever done, because she knew that once she did, she would truly be alone. She had grown so used to his presence, the conversations they found themselves embroiled in, the feeling of comfort whenever he was near; so much so that she failed to see what it was leading to.

His breakdown bore an unsettling resemblance to the ramblings of the patients in the hall below, as they desperately begged for her help as their minds deteriorated from events she had put in motion. She had reluctantly sedated him, finding herself incapable of counseling him as she noticed the parallels; but then she heard him utter something.

“_I need you…”_

How could she have done this to him? Taken advantage of his weakness to quell her own desires, all while she claimed to be helping him?

The ultimate purpose for her aiding him should’ve been so he would find the strength to finally end the Hunter’s Nightmare for good, but their last few encounters strayed further and further away from that purpose. Instead, she had foolishly acted on her feelings for him; feelings she should’ve kept restrained. And now, he would sooner remain here for eternity rather then having to face her again.

And Maria had no desire to do so either. Not after what had transpired between them the night before. What had begun as a want to show him what true love-making could be like turned into the most stimulating and emotionally charged moment of her life; both of her lives. And as she lay with him then, she knew that she wanted to spend the rest of eternity with him.

But she couldn’t do that to him; condemn him to a lifetime of damnation just so she could feel something again. He deserved to be happy, to live a life free of torment and sorrow. And he would never find that with her. Not so long as the Nightmare endured.

Looking off to her side, she noticed that the music box Zoran had given her was still there, its insignificant appearance hiding a much darker story. Though it had once brought a feeling of comfort, now all it did was amplify her grief. It showed the goodness hidden behind the hunter’s seemingly pessimistic exterior he exhibited when they first met. Knowing just how much he suffered made Maria regret all the times she had slaughtered him without a second thought, because her time with him showed her what he really was; a kind soul trapped in an endless sea of blood and despair.

Picking it up, she began to observe it in greater detail, opening it to view the inner machinations of the small machine. The first thing that caught her eye was a small note that was attached to the underside of the opening. Though most of the writing was obscured, she could make out two names at the bottom of the sheet of paper.

Viola and Gascoigne. That must have been the name of the couple who Zoran had set out to find at the very beginning of his hunt, the very first in a long line of tragedies.

Taking the note into her hands, she tried to make out the message, the age of the letter making it difficult to do so. When she realized she was getting nowhere, she turned her attention back at the music box…

And what she saw made her audibly gasp, her eyes darting open in surprise. It was a small hair ornament, held up by two small nails where the letter had been pasted not long before. It looked exactly like one she had adorned in her hair when she was younger, the one she had left with Gehrman when she left the Workshop for good. It couldn’t possibly be the same one, she thought. Instinctively, she turned the sheet around, hoping to find answers…

Only to be met with a second message, which appeared to have been written recently.

_To the Lady of the Astral Clocktower._

_Whose fair heart and unfaltering compassion helped me see the light in the darkest depths of an endless nightmare._

_May you find your worth in the waking world._

_Your good hunter…_

_Zoran Kushnirenko of the Kuban Cossacks._

When she finished reading the letter, Maria felt as if her heart had shattered. Looking at the music box once again, she felt tears began to well in her eyes, finally realizing what it truly meant. It wasn’t just an impulsive gift to ease her boredom; he had planned this from the beginning. He somehow knew her curiosity would get the best of her and would lead her to discovering the small item hidden inside the box. It was meant to be a reminder of who she was before she fell into this Nightmare, that Zoran was truly grateful for everything she had done for him and that he cared for her.

That he loved her.

Her hands shook as she picked up the music box, turning the lever to be met with its familiar tune once more, her eyes still locked on the ornament. A slew of memories rushed through her mind.

The first time she consoled him.

When he had surprised her with offerings of books.

When she finally gained his blessing to unmask him.

The evening the two of them spent together; drinking, conversing and dancing until they could go on no longer.

And the happiness she felt as they lay together the night before, slowly falling asleep in each other’s arms.

He had helped her remember who she truly was, beyond the horrible events she found herself embroiled in and now she had sent him away. And she hated herself for it. Maria began to sob uncontrollably, clutching the music box to her chest. As the tears began to pour down her face, all she could think about were the last few words he had spoken to her.

“I love you…” She murmured over and over again, the sound of her sobbing echoing through the empty room.

...............................................................................................................................................................................................

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> **Author's Note: ** Yet again, this part was incredibly hard to re-write due to the changes I made to the rest of the story. I briefly pondered having Maria execute Zoran in order to prevent him from stopping her leaving, but ultimately decided that would've been just a tad bit too much. 
> 
> But I did end up putting a bit more emphasis on Zoran's past life as a Cossack into play in the nightmare sequence, seeing as how essential I made it to his character. And why does he get torturous visions now when he didn't earlier, you may ask? I'm sure you know the reason why. 
> 
> This is hard. Conveying emotion is hard.


	10. Dass er in Stücken schlug.

Zoran stood on the balcony where he had concluded his first meeting with Maria, trying to calm his raging heart. Part of him knew their arrangement would not last forever, but his naivety had gotten the better of him in the end. He had grown too attached to her, repeating the same mistake he had made with everyone else he had lost up until this point.

It was just another cycle he found himself unable to break.

But this wasn’t like what he felt when he was forced to kill Gascoigne or when he realized that the people he had saved in Oedon Chapel had died because of his carelessness. This was something different, because as much as it pained him to admit it, he didn’t truly know any of those people, only interacting with them for moments a time.

But he understood Maria and she understood him. They trusted each other with information they were unwilling to share with anyone else, even their closest friends. Overtime, he had begun to view her as a kindred spirit, someone who knew what it was like to lose everything and not being able to do anything to stop it. And he soon realized just what their companionship truly meant to him.

After she disappeared into her sanctuary and he found his path blocked by that accursed fog, he retreated into the Dream and made it to the small garden behind the Workshop before he completely fell apart. The Doll lay motionlessly in the spot where he had found her and so, he was left completely alone; no one left to comfort him and no one left to turn to. After he had calmed down some, he turned his attention to other matters; desperate as he was to avoid their confrontation. But it hung over him like a specter, following everywhere he went as he cut down foe after foe until there was almost nothing left.

As he leaned against the railing, he held out the brooch she had given him in his palm; proof of just how much their union had meant to her. He did not know how he could bring himself to fight her again. Every moment he wasted prolonged the suffering of everyone that was trapped here, but despite that, he wasn’t willing strike her down just to satisfy his craving for any sort of purpose.

“What do you want, Simon?” He asked, not attempting to hide the contempt in his voice as he realized he was not alone.

“I only wish to talk. It has been long since we’ve last seen each other.” Was all he said in response.

“If you came here to gloat, I do not want to hear it. Just leave me alone” He pleaded with his unwelcome visitor.

“Nothing of the sort, I assure you. I come with a proposition of sorts. You would do well to heed it.” Simon replied, dropping all pretenses as to the purpose of his visit.

“I offer you the chance to spare yourself from further sorrow.”

Zoran’s head shot upwards, immediately understanding what Simon was proposing. He turned around to glare at the Healing Church hunter, hatred gleaming in his eye.

“You son of a bitch! You sulk in the shadows while watching me slowly destroy myself, eavesdrop on my conversations and now you dare come before me with such a deplorable offer! You were supposed to be my friend!” He snapped at his fellow hunter, restraining himself from gutting him right then and there.

“I tried to be, in more ways then one. The fact you are in the state you are now is proof enough of that.” Zoran’s rage was only kindled further as he realized what Simon meant. He had tried to kill Maria when he thought him incapable of doing so. He must have.

“I thought you had truly lost your mind, trusting that unforgivable monster that resided in that Clocktower. So, I decided to take matters into my own hands.” At this point, Zoran had pulled his pistol from its holster, pointing it directly at Simon’s head. He would have pulled the trigger right then and there if one question didn’t remain.

“Then why is it she still lives?” He demanded through gritted teeth.

“Because I understand what passes between you.”

………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………….

Simon sat on the stairwell leading to the brass door of the Clocktower, his bow-blade placed next to him as he processed the scene that had just played out before him. He had decided to observe Zoran for a while since their last discussion, to judge whether his ally was truly lost. But he had seen everything he had to. It was time he took matters into his own hands.

He had planned to follow him to their next meeting and catch her off guard upon its conclusion; slaying them both, if need be. He had to wait for several hours before he got his chance, but Simon’s time in Yharnam’s alleyways had taught him the value of patience. Taking out a vial of Blue Elixir, he drank the strange concoction before ascending the stairwell to the Clocktower, expecting to see the two Hunters to be locked in either combat or conversation.

But instead he had found them in the last few moments of a waltz, appearing as if they were lifelong friends. The unexpected sight caused Simon to freeze in his tracks, the effects of the Elixir hiding him from their sight. At first, he was certain that Zoran had finally lost his mind and had been bewitched to Maria’s side. Why else would he be so willing to let his guard down around such a despicable person?

When they suddenly concluded their dance, Simon looked on with bewilderment as the two simply stared at each other, still locked in the position they had been during their dance. From his distance he could not make out any distinct features on either of their faces, but he recognized that something about Zoran had changed. He seemed…happy?

Before he knew what was happening, the two of them were sharing a comforting embrace; and it was clear to him that it was welcomed by both parties. Simon’s could only look on in bewilderment, his grip on his blade slightly weakening as the pieces slowly came together in his head. Could it really be?

When Zoran finally broke away from Maria, he immediately began to walk towards the gate of the Clocktower, causing Simon to hide himself behind the giant doors to avoid being spotted. As he watched his ally walk away, he was certain he had seen a smile on his face. Waiting until he had faded away into the Dream once more, Simon finally decided to put his plan into motion. Downing another vial of Blue Elixir, Simon readied his Blade and peeked from behind the door at his target…

Only to see her holding a small box, with an expression that resembled a child’s when they received a fascinating new gift. Even from his position, he could see the smile that adorned her face as she listened to the simple melody that came from the box; the same song he faintly heard during their dance.

Simon’s resolve crumbled at the display before him and for reasons he did not understand, he began to walk away from the Clocktower to collect his thoughts. Throughout his time in Yharnam, he had scarcely seen any of its residents, hunter or otherwise, smile for even a few moments. Yet at the edge of the Hunter’s Nightmare, he had laid witness to a display of what seemed like genuine happiness, from two hunters buried to their necks in emotional trauma.

Even when he first met Zoran, he remembered the tired look in his eyes when he attempted to persuade him to abandon the Nightmare, which he poorly tried to hide behind his mask even as his distress grew more and more obvious every time they saw each-other. Yet now, he looked like a completely different person, grinning from ear to ear as if nothing were wrong in the world. And from what he knew of Maria’s past, it seemed hardly appropriate to have her smiling in the very place she had taken her own life. To an outside observer, it wouldn’t make a lick of sense.

But he knew from experience what had truly transpired between them.

He remembered when he had been pulled from the streets, offered a chance to craft a new life for himself as a hunter of the Healing Church. It was a dreary and squalid affair, but through it all, he still managed to find happiness. He had found someone with whom he could feel comfort and solace, finding himself smiling and laughing even as the hunt began to weigh down on him.

To weigh down on the both of them.

“Oh, Ludwig…” He uttered, the pain he had felt when he was forced to put him out of his misery returning in full force.

It had become clear to him that he was slowly falling apart, especially after he had been forced to murder the Vicar of the Healing Church in order to maintain their upstanding image to the public. The only thing that kept him going was his “guiding light”, as he had called it; enrapturing him to the point that he seemed to care about nothing else. When Zoran had discovered him, he almost immediately gave it away; not wanting anything to do with the force that so led and mislead him.

But he had been one of few who had laid eyes on it, gazing into the blade to as the cosmos themselves seemed to swirl within it. It was a truly captivating sight, one that Ludwig intended to be a show of trust; proving that he had nothing left to hide from him. And that he treasured their bond: their love, more then anything else.

And Simon did love him. Beyond reason and sorrow.

After Ludwig passed, hatred towards his benefactors; the ones that had spurred his fall through their insatiable pursuit of destiny, festered within his mind. His eventual discovery of the Hunter’s Nightmare had inspired him to destroy it, to ensure that his beloved would finally rest and that no more would have to suffer because of the hunt.

And an all-consuming hatred it was. One that had come close to overtaking him.

Picking up his blade, Simon took one last look at the Clocktower, before beginning his trek back into the Research Hall. Despite everything, he still considered Zoran to be his friend. If he were to go through with this, he would carry his sorrow until the end of his days, and heaven knows what would become of him.

And he couldn’t in good conscience let the hunt break another bond apart.

………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………….

As Simon explained his actions, Zoran suddenly felt grief overwhelm him yet again. Sliding down to a sitting position, he buried his hands in his knees so as to hide his crying from his fellow hunter, who did not seem to move from his position at the door.

“She told you that the next time you met, it would be as enemies, correct?” Zoran began to question if Simon had been spying on him again, but it hardly seemed to matter anymore. He nodded halfheartedly.

“Do you love her?” He asked him suddenly, to which Zoran responded with another nod, seemingly unable to respond verbally.

“Does she know?” He nodded again.

“Do you think you can do it?” This caused Zoran to look up at his ally, hesitating to answer the question despite knowing his answer. Instead, he buried his head in his hands, his silence providing all the information Simon needed.

“Then listen to me very carefully. There is a symbol, etched deep within your mind; a dangling upside-down rune known as The Hunter’s Mark. If you focus your thoughts on it, you will awaken anew, forgetting the Nightmare and everything within. You will hunt your beasts and think no more of the secrets of the night. It will all seem like one bad dream.”

As Simon explained his proposal to Zoran, his mind only focused on one thing.

“What of Maria?” He asked.

“I will put her to rest. I promise you.”

For a while, Zoran heavily considered the offer. It really seemed like the best possible compromise for his dilemma. Though he could not stomach the thought of killing Maria, he also could not in good conscious leave her trapped here. What’s more, he would be free of the emotional baggage that had stunted his progress for so long, allowing him to finally accomplish what he had been striving towards.

But he knew that the things he was thinking now were selfish. Though he may forget his time in the Nightmare, Maria would remember every moment of it. As far as he knew, she still had the music box he had given her, along with the message he had left inside it. He could not imagine what she would think when she found out that he had sent someone else to do his dirty work, because he was too much of a coward to confront her himself. That he would choose to flee from his demons after she had spent so long trying to help him confront them.

“No.” He finally responded to his fellow hunter, who seemed surprised by his answer. “I started this. And it’s my responsibility to make it right.” He said as he rose to his feet.

“Hmmm. I suppose you would not be here if you weren’t so stubborn.” Simon joked half-heartedly before, though his expression belied a sense of regret.

“I should have dragged you back to the waking world myself. I knew from the moment I saw you that this Nightmare would end up breaking you, yet despite all that, you kept dragging yourself back into this accursed landscape, which any other man would have abandoned long ago. I envy your perseverance, misguided as it may be.”

“A time comes when one realizes they can’t run from their mistakes anymore. She taught me that much.” With that, he began to make his way back the lantern that had grown so familiar to him in his time in the Research Hall, intent on taking a quick detour before returning to the Clocktower.

“If you happen to reconsider, you know where to find me.” Simon called out behind him.

“I know. But this is something I must do alone.” He said in reply and just before he was about to leave, he turned to look at the former church hunter one more time.

“We’ll put them both to rest. I’ll see you on the other side.”

With that, the Seeker of Secrets was left alone on the balcony. He truly did not expect Zoran to turn down his offer, but as he watched his friend walk away, he found an unexpected feeling washing over him. One he hadn’t felt since he discovered the truth about the order he had pledged himself too. Pride in someone else.

“That’s the Zoran I know.” He said with a small smile.

………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………

Zoran stood outside the entrance of the Clocktower, seemingly unable to go any further. The conviction he had mustered on his way here had all but vanished, replaced by a feeling of dread and uncertainty. He knew that once he stepped through this doorway, there was no turning back. One of them was going to die. Tightly gripping his axe and pistol, he finally mustered the courage to traverse the fog obstructing his path, resigning himself to this fate…

Only to find Maria lying on the stairwell, seemingly unmoving. Suddenly forgetting why he was there, he began to sprint straight towards her, what he knew about her past leaving him fearing the worst. As he neared her, he quickly realized that she was not dead, but that she had somehow managed to fall asleep while he was gone.

As he looked at her now, he thought back to the first time he had seen her, how he had hardly seemed to care that she was dead. The shock he experienced when he had first seen her face, heard her voice; it all seemed so long ago now. Thinking he had once been so eager to see her dead made him realize just how much she had impacted him over so short a time, how quickly he had fallen for her once he discovered who she truly was.

Zoran began to ponder his next move. He could wake her and allow her to adequately defend herself, as any half-decent hunter ought to. Or he could simply leave and come back at a later time, giving himself some time to come to terms. But a third, far bleaker idea began to form in his head.

Looking down at his axe, he extended it to its full length and approached Maria’s sleeping form as silently as he could. Despite the trembling in his hands, he hovered the tip of the axe just above her throat, before raising it overhead. All he needed was one clean swing and it would be over. She wouldn’t feel a thing.

She stirred suddenly in her sleep, murmuring something he couldn’t quite make out, before going still once again. This sudden action made Zoran notice something; that she was desperately clutching the music box he had given her and that a small slip of paper lay by his feet.

She must have found the ornament he had discovered in the Abandoned Old Workshop, close to where an abandoned model of the Doll within the Hunter’s Dream was left. It did not take much time for Zoran to deduce that it had once belonged to Maria, which explained the pristine condition he had found it in. Gehrman made sure that it remained as such.

He had meant for it to remind her of the person she was beyond the endless slew of tragedies that have befallen her; to show her just how much she mattered to him. As he gazed at her pale face once again, he seemed to notice a small smile form on her lips as she slumbered. She looked as if she was at peace.

He began to back away from her, dropping his axe with a clang that echoed throughout the room as he realized what he was doing. She had shown him mercy at a time when he was most vulnerable and there he was, about to murder her in cold blood as if their time together had meant nothing at all; when it had meant the world to him. The least he could do was send her off with a proper goodbye.

Approaching her once again, Zoran reached out his hand in a vain attempt to re-enact the very first time they’d met. Several moments passed with no reaction, causing the hunter to drop to his knees and bow his head in sorrow, all while keeping his hand outstretched.

For reasons he did not quite understand, his mind drifted to a song he had sung numerous times in concerts with his ensemble. He never thought much of it, finding it a pleasant melody and nothing more. But as he began to softly recite the words in his native tongue, they seemed to take on a whole new meaning.

_“Óči čjórnye, óči strástnye,_

_Óči žgúčie i prekrásnye!_

_Kak ljubljú ja vas, kak boyús' ja vas!_

_Znat' uvídel vas ja v nedóbryj čas!_

_Oh, nedárom vy glubiný temnéj!_

_Vížu tráur v vas po dušé moéj,_

_Vížu plámja v vas ja pobédnoe:_

_Sožženó na njom sérdce bédnoe._

_No ne grústen ja, ne pečálen ja,_

_Utešítel'na mne sud'bá mojá:_

_Vsjo čto lúčševo v žízni Bog dal nam,_

_V žértvu ótdal ja ognevým glazám!:”_

When he had finished, the same deathly silence that had gripped the room when he had started returned, crushing any hope he had left in him. Until he suddenly felt something touch his gloved hand. Raising his head, he found Maria sitting in an upright position, a sorrowful expression on her face as she gently held his outstretched hand. Having being so absorbed in the song, he must not have noticed her awaken from her slumber.

She heard everything. She didn’t understand a word, of course, but somehow, she had recognized their meaning.

“You never learn, do you?” She said, forcing a small smile.

“I am right to presume you found it?” He asked.

“I did.” She responded simply.

“And do you still wish to go through with your pledge?” The faint sliver of hope that remained within him pressured him to ask this.

“I never did. But I am afraid the die has been cast.”

“We don’t have to do this. There has to be another way.” Zoran stated in a pained voice, despite knowing it was pointless.

“I wish there was. Truly, I do. But we both know it has to end this way.”

As she tried to pull her hand away, Zoran tightened his grip on it. Though he knew there was no way to prevent this, he didn’t want them to depart on such somber terms.

“May I have this dance?”

“Zoran, we can’t...” Maria affirmed.

“I know. But if this is truly the end, let’s not have our fellowship end with a whimper.” He continued to hold onto her hand, forcing a smile onto his face.

“One more time, Maria. That’s all I ask.”

Looking back at him with woeful eyes, her only response was a slight nod. Neither of them said a word as she released his hand and began to wind up the music box once again; placing it in the inside pocket of her coat instead of its usual place on the table. The two then repeated the ritual from their last dance, but this time they found themselves moving at a much slower pace, savoring every moment.

“I’m so sorry.” Maria suddenly said.

“For what?” He questioned her in a quiet voice.

“I should have foreseen this. I didn’t mean to place yet another burden on your shoulders.” She replied, every word seemingly laced with guilt.

“Is that what you think this is?” He asked, unable to hide the hurt from his words.

“No, it’s just…” She trailed off, seemingly unsure of what it was she wanted to say. “Fate has been so cruel to you. You deserve so much better than this.” She eventually said, to which Zoran replied to with a quiet chuckle.

“Not much of an outsider after all.” He said with a slight smile.

“You know that’s not what I mean.” She firmly stated, though Zoran was not willing to hear the rest.

“Don’t say that. I meant everything I said.” His tone changing completely as he said this.

“I know you did. I wouldn’t have given you that charm if I didn’t believe it so. But I was frightened; frightened of what our union would entail. I couldn’t force you to remain here, trapped in this nightmare just so I could satiate my own desires. But another part of me remained skeptical, because no one could ever truly love me.” She explained, averting her gaze slightly.

“I don’t deserve it.”

The two of them continued their dance in relative silence for the next few seconds, until Zoran felt the need to speak again.

“I used to think so too.” Maria looked back at him in surprise, realizing he was trying to use her own words against her.

“When I first came here, I truly felt like I had nothing left to live for. Everyone I knew and loved was dead, my hands were stained with the blood of hundreds of innocents and through it all, I felt powerless. I had tried so hard to help even one person, but it always seemed like my efforts had been for naught; as if I were nothing but a pawn within a vast, cruel game. Oh, how I wanted to escape, to simply fade away into that ethereal embrace and never wake up again. And somehow, I was denied even that.” He met her gaze once again before offering a warm smile.

“You saved me from that grim fate, showed me mercy at a time when I was at my most vulnerable. That one small act reminded me that I was not the monster I thought I was, that I still had a purpose in this seemingly unforgiving landscape. After what seemed like an eternity, I finally felt as if my life had meaning again, that I was actually striving for something worthwhile. And I will forever be grateful to you. For in this darkest of nights, you helped me see…the moonlight.”

The clocktower suddenly went silent and the two hunters once again found themselves frozen in place. Maria appeared dumbstruck, as if she couldn’t believe the words that were coming from his mouth. Dread slowly began to take him, realizing just what was about to happen.

“You know I’m sorry, too.” He suddenly said.

“Whatever for?” She inquired in a quiet voice.

“I ventured this far because I wanted to tear this Nightmare apart at the seams. But ever since the day you chose to spare me, that desire all but disappeared from my mind. I could’ve ended this anytime I wanted and instead, I prolonged your imprisonment and those of all the other souls trapped here. All because…because I was afraid of loosing you.” He explained as he lowered his head in shame.

“I’m glad.”

This caught his attention, causing him to look back up at her with an unmistakable surprise on his face.

“My time with you has let me see just how misguided I had truly been, how my failure to confront my past had led to so much unnecessary suffering. But more then that, you made me feel more alive then I’ve ever been. That night when we shared that dance, when you bequeathed that box to me, was…it was the happiest day of my life.” He looked back at her in surprise as she softly caressed his cheek, holding back the urge to cry.

“It doesn’t have to end like this. You still have a chance to make things right.” He desperately said to her, hoping that he could dissuade her.

“I’ve already done all I could…” She said in response.

“I don’t believe that.” He firmly stated, seemingly stopping any subsequent argument she could make. Forcing a soft smile onto his face, he placed one of his own hands on her cheek; his eyes never leaving hers.

“Go forth with me, Maria. Let us end this Nightmare…as one.”

An uneasy silence settled over them as Maria looked back at him with a sorrowful gaze, seeming hesitant to respond to his proposition. That was until she placed a hand on his and gently lowered it, her own gaze falling as this happened.

“Zoran, I’m sorry, but…” She paused then, but even before she said her next words, he already felt as if his heart had sunk into his stomach.

“I can’t. Even if I was able, I cannot give you hope where none exists…”

Zoran could feel the tears brimming at the edges, somehow knowing exactly what she was talking about before the words even left her lips.

“When I swore to protect this passageway, it was made so my very essence was bound to it, ensuring that it could not be opened so long as I draw breath. And even if that weren’t the case, I am little more then a spirit; a marionette whose very existence is tied to this Nightmare. Once the ties are severed and it unravels, I will cease to be.”

His throat constricted, not wanting to believe what he had jut heard. He wanted to beg, to somehow find a way for her to say that what she said wasn’t true. But the words would not come out, because he knew she was telling the truth. No matter what he does, he would lose her all the same.

A few tears began to run down his face as Maria cupped his cheek, herself appearing to be on the verge of tears.

“No matter what happens, I want you to know that I treasured every moment that I was with you and that…I love you. More then anything.”

She gingerly guided him into a kiss, with the two of them showing no sense of resistance nor desperation as they melted into their tender embrace, granting each-other one more moment of solace before the plunge. After their kiss had been broken, the two gently pressed their foreheads together and despite both of them finding themselves unwilling to break their hold on the other, a silent understanding passed between the two hunters as they wistfully gazed at each other.

The time had come to say goodbye.

They stayed like that for a few more heartbeats before they reluctantly broke their embrace and stepped back, silently bowing to each other as a sign of mutual respect. They then moved to retrieve their respective weapons and made their way to opposite ends of the Clocktower. As a brief moment of hesitation seemed to grip them both, Zoran took out the brooch she had gifted him and attached it to the shirt just below his neck, looking over to find Maria softly smiling at him.

“What happened to him? The boy with the horns?” She suddenly asked, hearkening back to the story he had told her.

“Well, he ended up loosing them for one. But after he is sent out, he eventually washes up on a beach. And as he awakens, he sees something lying in the distant sand.” He revealed, with Maria recognizing what he was talking about.

“The girl.” She acknowledged.

“Yes.” He simply stated and even then, their hesitation carried on.

“So, they both escape in the end.” She said, her voice soft and marred with sadness.

“In a way.” He said in response. If only their story had ended up being more like theirs. But it was just that. A story.

“I wish we had met under different circumstances. Really, I do.” Maria admitted after a brief silence and although it warmed him to hear her say this, he knew that what she described would most likely been impossible.

“On the contrary, I wouldn’t have had it any other way.”

The toll of the bell echoed through the tower as they began to slowly pace towards each other, tightly gripping their weapons as the memories of their past battles returned to them.

Maria made the first move, slashing at Zoran with her two blades, who managed to evade them both with little effort. She then swung her longer blade to her side, hoping to catch him as he evaded, but he blocked the strike with the hilt of his axe and pushed her arm away, swinging his own weapon at her. Luckily, she managed to dash backwards a safe distance before the blow could connect and just as quickly dashed forward with three consecutive forwards thrusts with her duel weapon, one of which managed to graze Zoran’s side. Seemingly ignoring the pain, he managed to strike her across the chest with the tip of his axe’s blade, but she managed to retreat before his follow up overhead strike could connect, though a small scar remained.

Quickly connecting her blades, she thrust the Rakuyo forward once again, but Zoran anticipated the attack and dodged to the side, extending his own axe in order to counter Maria’s greater range. Hoping to maintain the upper hand, he swung his long-reaching weapon twice in a horizontal motion, though Maria rolled forward during his second swing and swung her Rakuyo in an upwards motion, slashing Zoran across the torso and causing him to stumble backwards. As he clutched his wound, he noticed that for whatever reason Maria hesitated in her follow up attack. Meeting her gaze for a brief moment, an unexpected thought crossed his mind.

“Just like a dance.” He uttered.

“Indeed.”

Raising her weapon to her side, she dashed towards him with blinding speed. Zoran just managed to block her incoming attack, though the resulting force caused him to slide back a couple meters as he tried to stand his ground. Pushing back with all his might, he managed to break their stand still, swiftly transforming his axe back to its base state only to swing it horizontally in order to take advantage of her broken guard, but all he managed to do was create a massive hole in the floorboards. Looking back up, he quickly maneuvered his body to the side to dodge a shot from Maria’s Evelyn. Looking back at her, he found that she was holding up the smoking firearm, a resigned expression on her face. Zoran knew exactly what was about to happen.

Tossing her Evelyn away, Maria separated her two blades and swiftly plunged them into her stomach, before pulling them out with a yell, an explosion of blood erupting around her. She then leapt up into the air and descended onto the spot Zoran was not a moment ago, a forceful explosion sending several of the floorboards flying up into the air. She did not let up for a second as she swung both her blades in multiple diagonal motions, a stream of blood following each one; concluding in an X shaped slash that forced Zoran back. He ran towards her, dragging his axe along the ground as he did so and swung it upwards, before performing several more attempted strikes and yet another overhead strike, forcing Maria back. But instead of letting up, he used his other hand to fire a shot from his pistol towards where Maria had dashed to, which managed to hit her shoulder, staggering her briefly. Running towards her with a yell, he transformed his axe mid-thrust, the top of the weapon catching her in the chest and sending her flying backwards, though she managed to role off the ground upon impact. Taking up a stance, she swung her blood-soaked weapon overhead, the impact of which send Zoran tumbling across the ground even though he had successfully dodged it. As he sprung to his feet, he gave himself a silent reminder.

Only move after she has. It was a dance after all.

They continued on for a while, expertly maneuvering around each-other’s strike in a dazzling spectacle of metal and blood, until Zoran finally managed to wear Maria down enough that she had to resort to even more desperate measures. Suddenly levitating into the air, she absorbed all of the blood that had been spilled throughout their duel and released yet another explosion. Zoran could only look on in dread as he remembered that he was entering uncharted waters. He had never successfully beaten her in this form.

Maria know left a jet of flame in the trajectory of her swings. The rules of the dance had been broken.

Cinders danced in the air as several of the old wooden structures of the tower burned, having caught fire as a result of their duel. Finding himself exhausted after the extended bout, he struggled to adequately dodge her attacks, growing sloppier every second the fight dragged on. As Maria dashed forward, he was unable to react before she had slashed across his chest with both blades, forcing him to his knees. Unable to defend himself, he could only watch helplessly as Maria approached him and drove her fist into his chest, a splitting pain spreading through his entire body as every limb seemed to go numb. She then pulled him close towards her, embracing his seemingly limped form. Putting her lips next to his ear she whispered…

“I’m sorry….”

She then removed her hand from his chest, letting him crumple to the ground. Carefully rolling onto his stomach, he forced himself upright with one hand and clutched the gaping hole in his chest with another, seemingly resigning himself to death once again as Maria hovered over him, ready to strike him down.

“So am I...”

He swiftly slashed Maria across the chest with a weapon she had not noticed on his person before then, causing her to stumble backwards in pain. Using the weapon to support himself, he rose to his feet and clutched it with both hands before driving it into his open wound. Pulling it out with a bloodcurdling scream, he held up the blood-soaked weapon, revealing it as the Chikage he had wielded in his time in the service of Cainhurst.

“We have always been honest with each-other, Maria. There is no use hiding who we really are anymore.” He said, his resolve not breaking.

“Then it was not all in vain, after all.” Was all Maria said in response before she dashed towards him once again.

The pace of the match had been evened out significantly, the two heirs of Cainhurst matching each other for every drop of blood that they burned away maintaining their forbidden art. Eventually, Maria dashed backwards once again, taking up a stance that was forever etched into Zoran’s mind. She then fired a jet of blood towards him, a stream of flame following soon after, with the Vileblood dodging it successfully. Just as swiftly, she slashed her weapon diagonally…

But this time Zoran was ready.

Dashing through the flames, he rushed towards Maria with a speed she had never seen before. Before she could react, he had swung his blade upward, slashing her across the torso and quickly spun himself around, thrusting the blade past his side and stabbing her right through the stomach. Shock overtaking her, she began to stumble backwards, Zoran removing his hold on the blade and leaving it still impaled in her gut. Somehow managing to maintain her footing, she met her opponents’ eyes, an unmistakable sadness present in her expression. But Zoran thought he saw something else within her eyes. Pride.

He did not have time to process this, as Maria suddenly let out an agonized cry and charged towards him once again, seemingly unwilling to give up even in the state she was in now. Anticipating the move, he managed to duck underneath her desperate swing and grab the Chikage impaled in her stomach, pulling it out as he did so, a torrent of blood beginning to erupt out of the wound. Finally spent, the Rakuyo tumbled out of Maria’s hands and she collapsed to her knees as Zoran approached her, sheathing the Chikage as he did so. Grabbing her shoulder, she raised her head to look up at him, finding a regretful look on his face as he raised his hand.

“Thank you. For everything.” Was all he said before he plunged his hand into her chest.

He had won. After all this time, he had finally bested her. And it had cost him everything.

Despite the severity of her injuries, Maria somehow managed to cling on to life, supporting herself on Zoran’s shoulder as she struggled to stay conscious.

“It looks like you got what you always wanted.” Maria managed to choke out.

“I didn’t want this.” Zoran replied, chocking back tears as he did so.

Suddenly, Maria wrapped her arm around Zoran and pulled him in close, so her head was resting on his shoulder before whispering in his ear.

“You stole my heart.”

Despite the horrid situation they were in, he couldn’t stop himself from softly chuckling. It seemed as if his humor had rubbed of on her.

“I knew you had it in you.” He uttered more to himself then to her.

“Zoran, listen. My entire life has been spent trying to find a path I truly believed in, one where my talents could be put in the service of others. Yet, I always seemed to find myself as the centerpiece of yet another atrocity. Cainhurst, Byrgenwerth, the Church; I was complicit in the crimes of each and every one. I can put as much distance between me and the truth as I want, but there is no denying the amount of blood that is on my hands. The fact I am here at all should speak volumes as to the extent of my sins.”

She pulled herself up and met Zoran’s gaze, placing one hand on his cheek while supporting herself with the other.

“Yet against all odds, you managed to see something more in me. You helped me remember who I really was, beyond this wretched cycle that crushed my spirit so thoroughly. I treasured every moment I was with you, for you let me become what I’ve always wanted to be, even if for a little while. For once in my life, I don’t feel like a failure.”

She suddenly descended into a fit of coughing, blood escaping from her mouth. As Zoran continued to hold her close to him, he gently removed his hand from her chest and used it to further support her ailing body. Moving them to the staircase where they had spent countless hours together, he held her against him, supporting her as she struggled to sit up. He knew there was not much time left, but whatever he wanted to say to her wouldn’t come out.

“Please. I need you to promise me something.” She spoke in between pained breaths, looking him dead in the eyes.

“Once it is done; when the Nightmare finally comes to an end...promise me that you will put it all behind you. You may never lead a truly "normal" life, but I know...I know that you're so much more then just a soldier, more then just a hunter. The burdens you carry shouldn't define who you are. Instead, let them be what carries you...to the place you were always meant to end up in.” She clutched him tighter then, not breaking his gaze for a moment.

“And whatever happens... know that I'll always be with you. Every step of the way...”

Zoran’s felt his words catch in his throat, too overwhelmed by emotion to respond accordingly. Eventually, he managed to utter a simple reply.

“You have my word.”

By now, Maria’s grip on Zoran had begun to slip.

As Maria’s breathing began to grow heavy, Zoran found himself unable to accept the scene playing out in front of him; to accept that she was about to die. Desperate to save her, he fished out his last remaining blood vial and attempted to inject it into her leg, but before it could reach it, Maria managed to catch the hand holding the vial. Zoran looked up to find her staring back at him with a comforting expression on her face.

“It’s alright. You need to let me go.” She said in a soothing voice, seemingly accepting her fate.

“No. Not like this. I can’t fail you like all the others. Let me save you!” He pleaded with her as he found himself unable to hold the tears back any longer. He suddenly felt her place something in his lap, not needing to look down to know what it was.

“You already did.”

Under the intensity of her gaze, Zoran felt the blood vial slip from his grip, shattering as it hit the ground. With trembling hands, he wound up the lever of the music box, allowing Maria to hear its familiar melody one last time as they shared a comforting embrace. What better use could there be for a lullaby?

“Farewell...my dear hunter.” She said in a tender voice as her breathing grew labored.

“May you find your worth in the waking world.”

Her grip on him suddenly gave way as a final, drawn out breath escaped her body. Lady Maria had passed away, receiving the peaceful ending she could not in her past live.

“Don’t do this, Maria. Please, say something. Wake up. Don’t let it take you. Not again. Please…I love you!”

Zoran desperately held on to her lifeless body, burying his face in her shoulder as the tears continued to flow. He found himself helplessly begging that she not leave him, not wanting to accept that she was gone. This soon devolved into incomprehensible blubbering that echoed throughout the decrepit and now empty tower.

He eventually found it within himself to pull away, gently cradling her body before he pressed his lips to her forehead. He continued this embrace even as he felt her fade away in his arms, her body fading away into nothing in short time. Hopefully this signified she has transcended to a higher plane, one where she could finally find salvation.

Despite this optimistic thought, Zoran felt empty. The only person he had ever grown to love had died by his hand. And now, he was truly alone.

Behind him, he could hear the gears of the clocktower slowly begin to turn, eventually revealing a narrow entrance into the depths of the Nightmare, where the true secret of the Healing Church lay to be uncovered. Looking at the music box in his hands, he gently placed it in the bag he had carried it in for so long, though the once innocent object now felt like an insurmountable burden on his shoulders. But it reminded him exactly of what he must do.

He was no longer without purpose. He made Maria a promise and he would see it through no matter what. He would shine a light on the dark past of the hunt and then bring its very foundations crashing down.

He owed her that much.

………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………….

Zoran stood solemnly in the ruins of the Hunter’s Workshop, where the roots of the hunt had taken hold. The Hunter’s Dream contained a splitting image of the relatively small structure in front of him, down to every minute detail. It had been Gehrman’s wish, no doubt; to ensure that his work would never be undone. But the ways of the Old Hunters had been lost and abandoned to time, much like the First Hunter himself.

But that was not the reason Zoran was there.

“Hello, Maria.” He greeted solemnly, standing over what he now understood to be her grave.

“I made you a promise, remember? That I would put the sins of the Old Hunters to rest? Well, I’ve done it. Finally, I’ve done it.” He said, pride filling his voice.

“It was the hardest fight of my life, as if the totality of the Hunter’s sins were barreling towards me at once. But I overcame it and now, the child of Kos has returned to the ocean.”

“I know I should not be here. Knowing now what the Old Hunters did in that Hamlet all those years ago. How they scoured the skulls of its residents for eyes. How they defiled the body of the Great One that washed up on that beach. What they did to its stillborn child. To learn that you were complicit in all those atrocities, was… heart-wrenching.”

“But I know that’s not who you really are. The Maria I knew was no blood-crazed fiend or blasphemous murderer; but perhaps the most compassionate and understanding person I have ever met. I thought myself a monster at one point, but I realize know that reality is never so black and white. Laurence, Ludwig, Gehrman; none of you were inherently evil. You were all people with what were originally noble intentions, driven to the brink by humanity’s terminal ambition. And all of you suffered for it. Well no more. I hope you may all find peace at last.”

Taking a knee before Maria’s final resting place, Zoran dug into his bag and pulled out a Lumenflower he had picked from the vast garden outside of her Clocktower, placing it against her tombstone. He then brought out the music box he had gifted to her so long ago and wound it up, before placing his hand upon the tombstone and lowering his head to silently pay his respects, the soothing melody doing little to contain the grief he felt at that moment. After several minutes, he raised his head and rose to his feet, seemingly unwilling to leave.

“But my work is not yet finished. I promised you that I would free all hunters from eternal damnation. And to do that, I must put one more soul to rest.” He glanced at his open palm, revealing a revolting black item oozing an unknown substance.

“And put an end to this accursed Dream.”

Glancing one more time at the grave of his beloved, he felt the tears appear once again, but they did not flow as freely as they once did. It was her that helped him finally find a purpose in this seemingly endless night and for that, he would forever be grateful to her. Now he would snuff out this cycle of misery for good, no matter the cost.

“Farewell, Lady Maria of the Astral Clocktower. Rest now, knowing that your past sins burden you no longer.” As he began to make his way back into the Workshop, he stopped at the door and cast one more sideways glance at her grave, knowing this was the last time he would ever have the chance to speak to her.

“And that I will always love you. In this life and the next.”

As he faded away into the Hunter’s Dream for the final time, the eternal silence of the abandoned workshop settled in once again. Except for one singular source of sound, still echoing faintly through the decrepit remains of the once proud structure. On the earth of Lady Maria’s grave, stood a tiny music box, left there as an eternal reminder of the bond she had formed with a lowly outsider in his darkest hour. And how her unexpected guidance helped them escape the grim cycle that befell them both.

As the lullaby faded, a thin ray of light broke through the clouds that had blanketed Yharnam’s sky for so long.

The Nightmare was over at last. Now, Lady Maria would finally find peace.

.........................................................................................................................................................................

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> **Author's Note**: Well, what did you expect from a story like this? A happy ending?
> 
> I ultimately only ended up expanding the dialogue between Zoran and Maria, as well as explaining Simon's motivations. What, you thought that throwaway line about Ludwig's "inclinations" wouldn't come into play again? 
> 
> I would like to thank everyone who took the time to read this little pet project of mine. I never expected it to get the attention that it did and it has truly helped me grow more confident in my capabilities as a writer. I would also like to acknowledge that I drew a lot of inspiration from Optimum Ace's "Last Crow of Yharnam" whilst developing this fic, so go and give it a read if you haven't already. The song used in the middle of the chapter is the original version of "Dark Eyes", as written by the Ukranian poet Yevhen Hrebinka.
> 
> And yes, that was a Hellsing Ultimate Abridged reference. Sue me.


	11. Draus sah ich Perlen rinnen und Tröpflein rosenrot

The smell of burning timber welcomed Zoran as he awoke in the dream once again, the recreation of the Hunter’s Workshop having been caught in what seemed like a perpetual flame. No matter how long it burned, the structure showed no sign of decay, the sustenance of the dream preventing it from crashing down.

But it would tonight. He would make sure of it.

He noticed immediately that the Doll was not in her usual spot, despite having been completely lifeless the last time he saw her. After a moment of searching, he found her kneeling in front of the headstone that had served as his link to the Hunter’s Nightmare. His link to the very one she was made in memory off.

As he approached her in order to say his goodbyes, he suddenly heard her speak.

“O Flora, of the moon, of the dream...oh fleeting will of the Ancients. Let the hunter be safe, let him find comfort. And let this dream his captor, foretell a pleasant awakening.”

As he listened in to her prayer, the hunter was met with yet another wave of guilt. He had neglected her for so long, his loathing of the Dream having made him averse to her attempts to comfort him. Yet after all that, she still found it within herself to pray for his safety, going beyond her original purpose to look after him. Gehrman had long ago abandoned her, dozens if not hundreds of hunters have come and gone and yet she remained, alone and all but forgotten.

She suddenly noticed his presence, standing to her full height and turning to face him, her once comforting visage now only serving to reignite his grief.

“Good Hunter, you have come.” She acknowledged, sounding almost saddened as she said this.

“Where is he?” He asked with his head lowered, finding himself unable to look her in the eye. The Doll slightly tilted her head to the side, seemingly puzzled by his demeanor. She then took a few steps forward and knelt so she was on eye level with him, placing a hand on his shoulder.

“Dawn will soon break…this night and this dream will end.” She said in what he can only assume was an attempt to comfort him.

He pulled her into an embrace, which seemed to have come at a great surprise to the Doll, as she took a short amount of time to loosely return the gesture.

“I’m so sorry…” He softly said to her after several moments of silence.

The Doll pulled away from him after a while, catching a single tear as it rolled down his face. She then placed both artificial hands on his shoulders, softly smiling at him.

“Gehrman awaits you, at the foot of the Great Tree. Go on, Good Hunter.”

Taking in a deep breath, he turned to walk away. He was there with a purpose, after all.

“Good Hunter. This may sound strange, but…have I somehow changed?” She called out behind him, stopping him in his tracks.

“How so?” He asked in an inquisitive tone.

“I'm not sure, but...moments ago, as if deep within, I sensed a liberation from heavy shackles.”

Slowly turning around, he could only stare at the Doll with his mouth agape. It had long ago become obvious to him that Gehrman had built her in Maria’s image and that a major reason for him accepting his position within the Dream was the faint hope that it would mean being reunited with he would assume was his surrogate daughter.

But she was not Maria. She never could be. But could it be possible that…

“Not that I would know. How passing strange…” She cast her gaze to the side with slight chuckle.

“Yes. How very strange indeed.” He said as he cast his eyes to the ground. He then continued on his way, unable to shake an aching suspicion. Something about her had seemed different, but he couldn’t for the life of him figure out what. Could it be that…

Of course not. It was to good to be true.

Walking through an innocuous gate, Zoran was greeted with the sight of a vast field of white, almost ethereal flowers. They grew along a hill which led to the base of an enormous tree, where a lonely grizzled figure sat in a run-down wheelchair, patiently awaiting his arrival. 

“Good Hunter, you’ve done well. The night is near it’s end.” He praised the hunter as he trekked towards him.

“Spare me the cryptic nonsense, Gehrman. What is it you want?” He demanded, the old hunter appearing slightly taken aback by this candidness.

“And I had thought that fortitude of yours lost.” Gehrman weakly raised his head, his sunken eyes barely visible beneath the brims of his hat. Zoran’s heart sank as he hearkened back to Maria’s gleaming descriptions of him in his heyday, how he had carried himself with pride and flair. Now all that remained was a hollow husk, a shell of the man he once was. “Oh, it doesn’t matter.” The old hunter seemed to dismiss this, choosing instead to continue his address.

“Now, I shall show you mercy.” Upon hearing those words, whatever resolve the hunter had built on his way here had vanished, replaced with an incessant curiosity. What could he possibly mean by that?

“You will die, forget the dream, and awake under the morning sun. You will be freed from this terrible Hunter’s Dream.”

Though he did not speak, the shocked expression on Zoran’s face said it all. He found himself hearkening back to the events that had transpired throughout his seemingly endless hunt.

His blood had been tainted.

His mind addled beyond repair.

His body broken from the countless deaths he had been forced to endure.

His spirit crushed under the burden of guilt he felt for all those who died in his wake.

And above all, the crippling loneliness he had felt through every waking moment as he weaved through the withered bodies of the damned.

And now he had the chance to escape. To be liberated from the shackles that weighed down so heavily upon him. No more pain, no more loss. This was his last chance.

“No…”

The sound of crackling flames was all that could be heard as silence fell over the Dream, interrupted only when Gehrman began to chuckle softly to himself, his hat obscuring his face as he gazed at the ground.

“Dear oh dear. Of all the hunters that have come and gone, you were the last I would’ve expected to turn against the tide.” He looked at Zoran, who’s gaze was locked on the ground.

“What was it? The hunt, the blood or the horrible dream?” He inquired with a forced smile, as Zoran finally met his gaze.

“Because I made a promise.” He replied somewhat cryptically.

“Did you now? To whom, may I ask?”

His answer came when Zoran swiftly reached beneath the tailcoat of his jacket and pulled out a double-edged weapon, splitting it in two at a speed the Old Hunter could not comprehend. His eyes shot open and his throat constricted as he stared at the familiar blade, it’s serrated edges seemingly glistening in the moonlight.

“That’s….that’s not possible.” He stated in disbelief.

“I see now why you were so fond of her, Gehrman. Maria was a…truly special woman.” Zoran stated solemnly.

“But she’s…she’s…” He struggled to formulate the words as he felt tears begin to build in his eyes.

“You were not the only hunter tasked with overseeing an endless dream.”

Upon hearing this revelation, a fresh wave of guilt seemed to wash over the old hunter as the tears began to flow. It wasn’t enough that she had died alone, taking her own life out of desperation and guilt. She had been condemned to the Hunter’s Nightmare, the existence of which he held much of the blame.

“It was you, wasn’t it? I didn’t think much of it, but I felt it. As if a massive burden had been lifted of my shoulders.” He asked, seeming more and more dejected with each word.

“It was.” Zoran decided not to mince his words.

“I see. So even in death, I am a failure.” The First Hunter said as he bowed his head in sorrow.

“I won’t try to rationalize my actions. I know what we did in that Hamlet was a senseless act of barbarism, one that ultimately amounted to nothing. I had been a true believer in Master Wilhelm’s vision of communion with the Great Ones and followed his commands without question. Even when I cut that child from Kos’ body, I felt nothing; not taking a moment to consider the ramifications of my actions. And I remained blind to it until I found out what happened to her, how the events of that day had broken her.”

Gehrman paused then, having slumped even further into his chair. All the while, he avoided meeting the hunter’s eyes; forcing himself to hold back the grief that welled within him.

“You shouldn’t have been forced to clean up our mess. So many have suffered because of our foolish pursuit of divinity and I didn’t realize it until it was too late. Monsters. The lot of us.”

Zoran looked up at the host of the Hunter’s Dream, unsure of how to respond.

“I forgive you.”

His head suddenly shot upwards, staring at the hunter in complete bewilderment.

“What?” Gehrman questioned, seemingly baffled by his statement.

"Everything that's been said. Everything that's been done. I forgive you." Gehrman did not offer a reply, instead looking on at the younger hunter as he restated his proclamation.

“I understand it all too well. What it’s like to have everything you fought for come undone in front of your eyes. What it’s like to feel adrift, bogged down by an omni-present hopelessness and despair. What it’s like wanting to find a way to escape, despite knowing that you cannot. It breeds resentment towards everything around you, but especially towards yourself. I would’ve followed that path to its bitter end, were it not for a single act of mercy. One that reminded me that nothing was set in stone, that there may still be a light at the end of this dark tunnel; no matter how faint.”

He took a step towards the hunter of old, while trying to keep his own grief in check.

“She adored you, Gehrman. She considered you to be like a father to her, even after everything that happened.” Still, the Old Hunter did not seem to react to his words, looking on with his mouth agape.

“I know you are trying to atone. That you wish to spare me from carrying the mark of the hunt for the rest of my days. But if I give in, this Dream will endure and hundreds more will be caught in this never-ending cycle. Besides, you cannot carry the weight of your sins forever.”

A breeze blew through the field, picking up several petals as the two hunters, old and new, stared each-other down. Both of them wanted nothing more then to be freed from this horrible existence, but also wishing to ensure no one would ever share in their pain again. There was only one way this could end.

“No, good hunter. I swore that no one else will suffer as a result of my misdeeds. And I do not intend to go back on that pledge.” He said as he placed his hands on the grips of his wheelchair and began to rise to his feet, much to Zoran’s surprise.

“Not even for her.”

He pulled out his shorthand blade and swung it over his shoulder, attaching it to the staff on his back with a speed that was unbecoming of his age. Firmly grasping his scythe with both hands, the First Hunter cast one more solemn look at his latest student, a resigned expression on both of their faces as the workshop continued to burn behind them.

Only one of them would be left standing.

“I am sorry.” Gehrman uttered quietly.

“So am I.” Zoran said in response. 

The First Hunter began to slowly lumber towards him, his missing leg leaving him with a noticeable limp; but Zoran knew better then to underestimate him. Moving at an inhuman speed, Gehrman swung his scythe twice in a horizontal motion, which the younger hunter managed to handily evade; before being forced to sidestep when he swung it a third time. Using the momentum of his movement, Zoran turned his body around, both of Rakuyo’s blades coming close to grazing the older hunter before he dashed away. Recovering just as quickly, Gehrman rushed towards him and managed to launch him into the air, before driving him into the ground. Rolling to his feet just as the scythe-wielding hunter launched himself towards him, Zoran unleashed a flurry of strikes upon his mentor, several of which managed to find it’s mark.

Going back on the offensive, Gehrman slammed his weapon into the ground before grabbing the blade and swinging it upwards, sheathing the staff on his back. He then slashed at Zoran in quick succession, who managed to deflect each and every one before being forced back when the old hunter fired off a point-black shot from his blunderbass. Rushing back in, he slashed at Gehrman with a doublehanded x, before connecting the two blades and thrusting forward, managing to catch him in the side. Dashing backwards, the older hunter fired off another shot from his firearm, but was caught by surprise when Zoran seemed to fade into smoke and reappear before him, slashing him across the chest before he could react.

The First Hunter looked back at Zoran with rounded eyes as he clutched the wound on his chest, appearing as if he had relieved a distant, yet familiar memory.

“What is this? You…you move just like…” Gehrman struggled to get the words out.

“I learned from the best.” Zoran responded in a simple manner.

This seemed to spur something within the old hunter, for he let loose a powerful yell and was suddenly enveloped in a white mist. He then descended upon his opponent with unparalleled aggression, barely giving him a moment to recuperate as their battle raged on. The two hunters moved faster then the eye can see, their blades clashing several times as the mist obscured their movement. As Gehrman felt himself weakening, he created some distance between him and Zoran before launching himself in the air and slashing the air below him, sending out a forceful blast that knocked his opponent back.

The hunter stood to find Gehrman extending his arms to the sky, his gaze set on the moon. Zoran barely managed to get in the clear as a blast erupted behind him, launching him forward and sending him tumbling across the field. He turned to see the First Hunter approaching him at a breakneck speed, stopping his attempted strike with both blades and forcing them into a standstill as he struggled to hold his ground against the vastly more experienced hunter.

“You must accept your death. Be freed from the night.” Gehrman softly pleaded with him, no doubt hoping it will break his resolve.

As Gehrman’s blade inched ever closer to his neck, Zoran found himself unable to do anything but continue to hold him back. Suddenly, the Old Hunter noticed a glint in his eye and just managed to move his head out of the path of a glowing orb of arcane, forcing him to break their standstill in order to get clear. He didn’t get the chance to recover however, as Zoran quickly closed the distance between them and slashed him across the chest with both blades, continuing to slash at him until he drove both blades into his abdomen.

After he had removed the blades, Gehrman fell hard on his back, watching as the younger hunter hovered over him and prepared to strike him down…

“Did you love her?”

Stunned by his sudden question, Zoran froze in place. It felt as if an old wound had been re-opened, for he felt an emptiness claw away deep within. Whatever he was thinking then was interrupted by Gehrman’s rasped chuckling.

“From the moment I saw you, I could tell you were a victim of circumstance. Reserved as you were, it was clear that you were a gentle soul, wanting nothing more then to find a sense of belonging and purpose. But you soon became lost, wandering aimlessly as the true meaning of the hunt revealed itself to you. And I wasn’t there to guide you. When you disappeared, I…I feared the worst.”

Zoran felt his hands begin to shake, finding himself incapable of killing the old man beneath him. Despite his better judgement, he lowered the blades and backed away from him, finding himself overwhelmed with grief. He was broken out of his stupor when he heard the Old Hunter rise to his feet, using his scythe to straighten himself.

“I am truly sorry, Zoran. I know I was not the mentor I should have been. Ever since Maria…passed, I was in a very dark place. When Laurence came to me with that contract, I couldn’t bring myself to say no. I could have had anything I wanted, but…all I really wanted was her back.” He cast his eye in the direction of the workshop, the hunter immediately realizing what he meant. “But I realized very quickly that that _thing_ out there could never replace her. And I have never truly made peace with the fact she was gone.”

Silence once again befell the two, both of them seemingly forgetting the events that had just transpired.

“I gather that she has finally been put to rest?” Gehrman said in a sorrowful overtone.

“Yes.” Zoran finally broke his silence, trying to suppress the painful memory.

“And did the two of you…” Gehrman continued his inquiry before trailing off, but the hunter understood exactly what he was going to say. Instead of answering, he cast his head to the side and furrowed his brow; yet his silence seemed to give the old hunter the answer he needed.

“Hmph, well I never” Gehrman smiled softly then, as if he were in the midst of reminiscing.

“You must have cast a hell of a spell on her then. Her upbringing had hardened her at an early age, made it difficult for her to trust anyone. She scarcely had any friends, afraid that they would reject her upon discovering her heritage. But after the Hamlet, it only got worse. She locked herself away, not letting anyone speak to her. And at that point, well…potential suitors were the least of her worries.” Gehrman turned away from the hunter and cast his attention to the burning workshop, one hand still gripping his scythe.

“Whatever it is that passed between you must have been strong, considering you would sacrifice so much just to fulfill a promise to her.”

“I’m not only doing this for her. I have seen so many succumb to the effects of the hunt, some who deserved it and many who didn’t. Nobody deserves to live this life, destined for eternal torment and madness. You would know that better than anyone.”

After a brief pause, Gehrman began to speak again, his gaze still fixed on the Workshop.

“Listen, Zoran. I watched everything I built unravel before my very eyes. The Healing Church had descended into anarchy, split between two fanatical factions as Laurence grew more and more obsessed with the blood with each passing day. The Workshop was left in disarray, the scale of the scourge leaving my methods useless as Ludwig struggled to contain it. And through it all, I was left by the wayside; alone with nothing but that soulless replica serving as a constant reminder of my greatest failure.”

“This dream exists because of my desire to make something of it all, to ensure that all my efforts had not been in vain. Instead, I violated the very fabric of the craft I had spent so long perfecting and soon, I was all that was left. A relic of a long-forgotten era.”

“I…I didn’t…” Zoran struggled to find a way to respond to the elderly hunter.

“It’s fine.” Gehrman interrupted him, his posture straightening significantly. “My time has long since passed.” He said as he released his hold on his weapon, allowing it fall to the ground before turning to face the younger hunter.

“You’re right. The only way for us to move forward is to make peace with the misdeeds of the past. But understand this, good hunter. This Dream; it can never truly be destroyed. The only way for the Hunt to end is if something, or someone, wills it so.”

Zoran took a moment to come to terms with the meaning of Gehrman’s words, before drawing in a deep breath and meeting the first hunter’s eyes.

“I understand.”

“Well then, my keen hunter. It is time I bid you farewell.” Gehrman said as he offered him his hand. Instead of taking it, Zoran pulled the old man into a hug, which he loosely returned after a moment of surprise. Pulling away from his apprentice, Gehrman placed a hand on his shoulder as an uncharacteristic, yet genuine smile appeared on his face.

“I’m proud of you. The both of you.”

All Zoran could do was nod his understanding, his eyes beginning to swell with tears. Gehrman soon released his hold on the hunter’s shoulder, turning away from him and silently kneeling down in the field of flowers, lowering his head expectantly. Zoran then made his way behind him, readying the double edged Rakyuo and hovering it next to his neck before drawing it back. All the while, Gehrman knelt with his eyes shut, awaiting the strike.

“The night…and the dream…were long.”

The Rakuyo cut through the air, decapitating the First Hunter in a single motion; his body falling forward and beginning to fade into the ground, signifying an end to his eternal servitude. The flowers around him began to turn a dark red, continuing to spread until the entire field was covered in blood-red petals. Zoran looked on at the breathtaking sight before him, uttering a quiet prayer for the architect of the hunt.

“Be at peace, oh noble moon-scented hunter. Long though the night may be…morning will always come.”

A bright light seemed to come from behind him, causing him to slowly turn himself around to view the source. And found himself entranced by what he saw…

A Paleblood moon. And at it’s center, the outline of an otherworldly figure, which seemed to be getting closer and closer with every passing moment. Unconsciously, Zoran began to make his way towards the creature, completely captivated despite its grotesque appearance. It soon touched down in the blood-red field, picking him up in his hands and lifting him off the ground, the hunter finding himself incapable of resisting as it brought him closer and closer. The creature then pulled him into an embrace, wrapping its numerous tentacles around him…

But was soon repelled by a sudden burst of force, sending it flying backwards. As the creature recuperated, it somehow seemed threatened by the small figure before it; rearing back it’s grotesque head and emitting a noise that resembled a moan more then a cry.

Zoran began to curl his fists as a rage began to build inside him. This thing had used him; turned him into its own instrument of destruction. He had been subjected to endless psychological trauma, been forced to die again and again; all while unknowingly doing its bidding. He slowly raised his head to look at the being, his eyes glistening with anger.

“You…We won’t be your puppets any longer!” He snarled at the creature, which had not yet moved from its position.

Zoran charged at the being, which desperately clawed in front of it in a vain attempt to keep him back; strikes which the hunter evaded effortlessly. He drove the longer blade into one of its limbs, causing it to howl in pain before swiping at him yet again; the hunter ducking under it and slashing the creature across its mangled torso. He continued to slash away at the creature for some time, knowing that there was nothing it could do to stop him.

The being then jumped back several meters, attempting to strike the hunter with its numerous tails as it did so before clutching its head as Zoran chased after it. It then released a ray of blinding red light, one that sent a cascade of pain throughout his entire body and stopped him in his tracks. Somehow, he knew that he should be dead, for the creature seemed just as shocked as he was that he still drew breath. It began to back away, seemingly realizing what it was.

Game.

In what seemed like a last-ditch effort, several white orbs began to rise from the ground around it, releasing a massive explosion of blood. But Zoran didn’t care. He ran towards the creature with a yell, ignoring the pain that came from every movement. As he approached it, he connected the two blades together and launched himself towards it, severing one of its limbs. The creature howled in pain as it stood to its full height before crashing down onto the ground, barely supporting itself with it’s remaining forelimb.

“No. MOOOOORE!!!”

The Rakuyo pierced the creature’s head, entering through the gaping hole at it’s centre and exiting on the other end covered in its divine blood. Its body began to convulse as Zoran began to twist the blade, his face contorting in a mixture of pain and rage as he did so. Pulling the weapon back, he watched as the Moon Presence stood on its hind legs, emitting what seemed to be a pained gurgle and beginning to dissolve in a white mist. It’s legs eventually gave way and the Great One collapsed to the ground, its body erupting in a burst of blood.

It was over. He had done it. The hunt was over at last.

(* Cue Journey Melody Cover by Taylor Davis.)

A fresh wave of pain shot up Zoran’s body, causing him to drop the Rakuyo and collapse to his knees, clutching at his chest as a thin line of blood trailed down his chin. Despite its severity, the hunter could not stop himself from chuckling as he found himself reminiscing about everything that had led to this point.

_Seek Paleblood to transcend the hunt._

That is what had started this venture. Even after everything that happened, he still had no idea what it meant. He had sought out Yharnam in the hope he could use its mythical blood to save his family, which ended in disaster. Then he joined the hunt in a hope to avenge his lost sister, which led him to murder hundreds of innocents in cold-blood. Then he took oath against the Church, corrupting his bloodline after being lulled to the Vileblood’s side. Then he became lost, adrift in an endless sea of darkness and misery, unable to shake the despair that hovered over him at every turn.

The Tsar had used him. The Church had used him. Annalise had used him. This very Dream had used him. He had been nothing but a mindless puppet, who had been completely unaware of the strings that guided his every action. It had become too much to bear. He wanted to escape. He HAD to escape.

He cast his eye towards his discarded weapon, which lay glistening in the moonlight. He could not count the amount of times he had been felled by its blade, reawakening to try his hand at uncovering the secrets of the Nightmare yet again. Oh, how he had hated her, wanting nothing more then to see her dead and forgotten. Having come so close to achieving this goal and being stopped at the last possible moment had been the straw that broke the camel’s back. He felt useless, as if nothing that he did mattered at all. He was a monster. A burden. A failure. And he deserved to die.

And she understood this feeling all to well. 

She spared his life, offered him counsel when no one else would. Simply having someone to talk to had been cathartic, letting him feel as if a burden had been lifted off his shoulders. His spirit had not been rekindled by any means, but he came away from their meeting with a thin ray of hope.

As their meetings became more frequent, he slowly began to feel like his old self again. For a time, he even managed to feel genuine happiness. He found himself enjoying her company, trying to lighten her own dampened spirit in any way he could. He had grown very fond of her, treasuring every moment they spent together.

But he should’ve known it wasn’t going to last. He should’ve seen the warning signs, but he soon felt his feelings towards her deepen. He found himself longing for her presence, becoming more and more hesitant to leave upon the conclusion of their meetings. Their dance had been the moment where he seemingly knew he never wanted to leave her side, for at that moment, she seemed like the most fair and beautiful thing in this world.

And he was afraid. Everyone else he had grown close to was gone, in no small part because of his own actions. It was only a matter of time before the same happened to her. All the while, he found himself wondering if she could ever truly feel the same way. And he eventually got his answer, but not in the way he envisioned. As she pushed him away, he finally found it within himself to show her what she truly meant to him, knowing he would never get the chance to do so again.

What he did not expect is for her to reciprocate. Against all odds, she had grown to love him.

Reaching out for Maria’s once beloved weapon, he picked it up and held it up before him. Running his hand along the blade, he smiled ruefully as he observed the intricacies of its design. She was the reason he was still here, the reason he had managed to slay the nightmare and ensure no one would suffer as they had.

She had been by his side all along. His true mentor. His guiding moonlight.

The weapon tumbled from Zoran’s hands as he grunted in pain, suddenly finding it all but impossible to breathe. Pain flared through his body and he fell onto his back, grasping his chest as his eyesight started to grow dim. Looking up at the blood-red sky, he recognized that he was yet again at death’s door; an experience that he had grown well acquainted with.

And through it all, he weakly smiled; knowing that no matter what happened, he would be reunited with her soon.

The hunter closed his eyes and released a final, relieved breath as his body went still once again. But this time, he did not fade away. For the night and the dream were now over. Not just for him, but for all.

Yet another breeze blew through the fields, dozens of tiny red petals being carried along its path. But soon they numbered in the hundreds, if not thousands; all being carried away beyond the boundaries of the Hunter’s Dream.

The dazzling sight came and went, and still, he lay there motionless. But after a few moments of relative peace, his body began to dissolve into a faint, white mist. Soon, Zoran Kushnirenko was gone; carried away by another gentle breeze and leaving nothing behind.

Silence again fell over the Dream, interrupted only when the tall, plain figure wandered into the field in an apparent daze; like she was searching for something. Or someone.

“Good Hunter? Gehrman?” She called out, wandering amongst the flowers. That is, until she felt herself step on something.

Looking down, she moved her boot away to reveal what it was she had stumbled upon. A double-edged blade, which brought about a strange feeling of familiarity. Taking it in her hands, she inspected the blood-stained weapon and as she held it aloft, she could see her reflection staring back at her; though for whatever reason, it didn’t seem like her own. After a while, she saw a small sparkle out of the corner of her eye and knelt down to pick it up.

And after staring at it for a couple moments, the weapon slipped from her grip.

In her palms was an emerald green brooch and as she held it in both her hands, a solitary trail trailed down her face. Memories of another life found their way into her mind. A lavish castle. A beast-plagued city. A desolate hamlet. An order born of blood. And a seemingly endless nightmare.

But she also remembered an unlikely encounter. Confessions. Laughter. Dancing. Love. And finally, a name.

Maria.

Yes. That was her name. And now that she was free from the Nightmare’s clutches, her spirit-once fractured-had become whole once more. She held the pendant against her chest as she realized what it’s presence here signified.

He was gone. The night had ended up claiming him after all. And she was alone yet again.

After staying like that for what felt like an eternity, she turned to return to the Hunter’s Workshop; who’s flames had mysteriously dissipated. As she solemnly passed through the gates and walked back into the courtyard, she felt something. A presence of sorts. And she now saw from where it emanated.

A small black, slug-like creature lay on the floor in the center of the courtyard, its tentacles shifting as its body writhed in what looked like an attempt to move. It appeared to be an infant, but of what sort, she did not know. Yet, she could sense an undeniable power coming from it, one that was still in its early stages. Approaching the creature, she looked down at it and tried to gauge why it was she felt an instant…connection with it.

“Are you cold?” She asked as she knelt down to pick it up.

Taking the creature in her arms, she noticed that it’s squirming seemed to settle down some as she held it in her arms. As the last piece of the puzzle clicked into place, Maria softly smiled as she recognized just what it was she was holding.

“Do not be afraid. You won't be alone again…beloved….”

..................................................................................................................

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> **Author's Note**: I'd like to once again thank everyone who took the time to read this pet project of mine. I have spent the better part of a year getting this into a state I am truly satisfied with and found myself sick of it at many points. But now that it's finally concluded, I can focus on other projects.
> 
> The next thing I'm going to write is a two part series set in the world of Street Fighter, which focuses on a major development in Chun-Li's life between SFV and Third Strike. One thing I can promise is that it'll be a much more "feel-good" story then this one, which is something I feel I need after spending so much time with a story like this. I don't know when it will be finished, but I still have finals to contend with, so probably around mid-to-late April.
> 
> I again bid you farewell. It has been a pleasure. May the good blood guide your way.


	12. Was mag der Traum bedeuten? (Epilogue)

The trees were in bloom and a gentle breeze swept through the ethereal plane known as The Hunter’s Dream. It was quiet, as it had always been. But despite what one would think, it was not desolate.

It’s guardian stood before a grave standing opposite the workshop, which remained separate from the others. His grave. The grave of the person he had been before he moved past it all. Became something more then human.

How long had it been since then, he wondered? Years? Decades? Centuries? But he also knew that it didn’t really matter, seeing as his mortal form had died long ago.

As he was lost in thought, he felt a pair of hands come to rest on his shoulders and a gentle kiss being planted on the top of his head.

“Welcome home, Zoran.”

He smiled when he heard that all too familiar voice. Her voice.

As he matured, he did not remember a thing from his past life; yet the memories themselves remained. Buried deep within his mind just waiting to be brought back to the light. It was clear to him now that she had spent just as much time to get him to remember who he had been as to instill in him the being that he would be. And it all started when she had addressed him by name.

Zoran. The name his father had given him.

After that, the memories seemed to cascade on him. The battles he fought. The people he lost. And above else, a bond. One that he had forged when it seemed like the darkness would crush his very spirit. He remembered every detail vividly now, especially the time when he thought he had lost her for good.

Though he did not turn just yet, he warmly greeted his companion within this sanctuary. His domain.

“Hello, Maria.”

It felt so good to be able to say those words again. It wasn’t her body, but then again, neither was his. This was simply the form he chose to take, one that resembled his appearance in his past life. But despite progressing beyond humanity, he by some miracle retained the ability to feel emotion. And right now, he felt a fulfilment unlike any other.

“Did you do it?” She inquired as she lightly traced her thumbs across his shoulders.

“Yes.” He answered, the memory still fresh in his mind.

“And what did you end up saying to her?” She continued her inquiry.

"Thank you, Olena. For saving my life that day...and every day since." 

And he had meant it. The moment that Maria handed him the pouch earlier that day, he knew exactly what he needed to do. The time had come to finally fulfill his promise to her. He had spent an untold amount of time making his way to the reaches of the Caucasus Mountains, where he scattered Olena's ashes to the wind and allowed it to carry her in the direction of their home, where she would finally be reunited with their mother and father. It was... beautiful.

But before he did so, he made her another promise.

He remembered hearing that the Great Ones were sympathetic in nature and that they would answer when called upon. But he had pledged to be a different kind of God, one that would answer the prayers of those who were too afraid to utter them; those who needed his aid the most. He had no interest in furthering the ambitions of madmen, in using humans for his own ends or in seeking offspring. And he knew that he couldn’t alter history as it unfolded, for even he did not possess that kind of power.

But he could come to someone in their time of need. And to give them a chance to add a few more pages to their story could mean they would completely change another’s.

And as it was, he had everything he could’ve ever wanted already.

“What would you like to do now?” She politely asked and, on most days, he’d have to think long and hard to answer.

With every visit to the Waking World, he brought back something to add to their little home. He had brought back food and drink that they would cook and indulge in together. Seeds of various species of flower, including her cherished lumens, which now bloomed in a garden behind the workshop. Books he picked out to continue the expansion of Gehrman’s already vast collection. Parts and tools they would use to construct a new piece of furniture.

But today, he had brought something special.

He finally turned towards her and found that she was wearing the recreation of her old garb that he and his loyal messengers had willed into existence for her. She had insisted that the clothes her vassal had worn had belonged to her in her past life, though they both agreed that they didn’t suit her. He couldn’t quite restore her to flesh and blood, but this was a satisfactory compromise.

She was there in spirit and for him, that was enough.

Without saying a word, he reached into the pouch he carried and took out what it was he had collected for her. And hearing her gasp in surprise made the whole thing better then he could’ve imagined. In his hand, he held the music box he had gifted her once upon a time, the one he had left at her grave in the waking world before he journeyed into the Dream for the final time. She accepted it with shaking hands and slowly opened up the hatch to reveal the small ornament that still remained inside, and after staring at it for a couple moments, she turned her gaze back to him; an evident joy in her expression.

“You remembered…” She stated in a soft voice, prompting him to softly smile back.

“Off course. How could I forget?”

This had been the item that had truly cemented their bond in their past lives, the one he had used to convey his love for her. And now that the memory had been restored, he wished to recreate that scene.

“Would you care to dance?” He said as he offered her his hand.

It looked as if she was about to cry, but despite that, her smile was wide as she accepted his hand and let him lead her to the gated garden away from the workshop. As they stood in the middle of the vast flowery field, Maria tried to hand him back the box to start it up. But he held up his hand, stopping her offering.

“Would you care to do the honors?” He asked, leaving her looking at him in mild surprise.

She complied soon after, winding up the music box and allowing it to shift back to life. It was rather distorted at first, but soon, they were listening to it’s gentle, soothing song; a song that had reminded them of their humanity when they had thought it lost. Their song.

Eventually breaking out of their entrancement, Maria placed the box into her inner coat pocket and soon, the two of them were holding each-other just like they did that day.

They eased into their dance and this time, there was no stiffness. No awkward movements. Instead, they moved as one, with each motion complementing the other. And through it all, they were smiling. The last time they did this, they were in a barren, dilapidated clocktower; preparing to engage in combat for the final time. They truly thought they would never see each-other again and why wouldn’t they? Fate had been a cruel mistress to them both for as long as they could remember and willing it so they would find love in someone they would inevitably loose was as cruel a joke as any.

Yet, against all odds, they had found each-other again. And again, it had been under the most unexpected circumstances. A Dream and a Nightmare colliding. A misfired bullet. An offer of aid from one he had considered little more then his next query.

And so their dance continued until the song came to an end and they halted their movements, their gaze never breaking. Despite the happiness and warmth he felt, there was an uncertainty, no matter how faint, festering at the back of his mind.

“Is this truly what you want, Maria?” He asked his partner as they stood in the fields.

“What do you mean?” She inquired, seeming unsure of what he was insinuating.

“When we agreed to end the Nightmare, I had thought I would finally put you to rest. To grant you the peace that you were denied for so long. So I guess I just wanted to know if…if you’re truly content with this. Letting your soul be eternally bound once more.”

Her hand cupped his cheek as she warmly smiled at him, before slowly moving downwards and placing it over the pendant that he wore on his collar. The one she had bestowed on him as a symbol of her love.

“I gave up trying to find peace long ago. Instead, it ended up finding me. And now that it has, I have no intention of letting it go.”

Their lips met in a gentle kiss and through it all, Zoran was flushing with joy. There was no noticeable difference between her vassal’s kiss and that of her own, yet it still felt so…unreal. He had thought that he had lost her forever and that he would never again hear her voice. Feel her touch. Tell her just how much she truly meant to him.

After their kiss was broken, the two stood in silence and simply reveled in its aftermath. After continuing this tender embrace from several moments, they came to a silent agreement and hand in hand, made their way back to the Workshop. Their home.

The hearth provided a welcoming warmth to the structure and the various books that had been accumulated over the years were now orderly arranged. But that was about all that remained of its former state.

The work-space where the two of them had once toiled away honing their weapons was now devoid of gems and arcane chemicals; instead being a place where the two of them kept their cutlery, tools and firewood. The storage area now served as a type of pantry where their food and drink were kept, including several of Zoran’s favorite baked good. Stacks of paper were laid out on one of their tables, where Maria would sit and write down their collective memoirs in the hope that it would one day be the last addition to their ever-growing collection. And just a few days ago, they had finally come up with a name for this chronicle.

"The Paleblood Hunt".

But that was a story that would be concluded another day.

Closing the doors behind them, the two of them began to settle in; removing their more cumbersome clothing and extinguishing the various lanterns that were spread across the room. On most other days, they would be awake far longer: talking over tea, laughing and every once in a while, making love. But alas, they would not do anything like that this time. Tonight, they will find satisfaction in simplicity.

Zoran was now lying in bed, which stood in the spot where the memory altar had been; waiting for Maria to join him. She stood next to their former work-space, contemplating where to place their treasured keepsake. Looking over her shoulder, they shared a mutual smile just before she again wound up the box; setting it down and finally coming to bed.

With the covers draped over them, they nestled against each other and let the lullaby lull them into slumber. Neither of them really needed to sleep anymore, but they continued to do so out of custom; reminding themselves what it was like to be human. And it brought him happiness unlike any other to have a chance to hold her in his arms again.

As they lay, waiting for sleep to claim them, Zoran felt Maria softly trace her hand across his chest; along the spot the mark she had left on him was located. The other scars were gone now, all of them except this one. The only one he couldn’t-and didn’t want to- forget.

“It seems as if it were only yesterday…” She whispered as she continued her gentle gesture.

“Much can change in a single night. For better or worse.” He placed a hand over her travelling one and in response, she lightly tightened her hold on him in acknowledgment. After lying in silence for a few moments, she broke it with a simple pledge.

“You'll never be alone again. I promise." And just as he was about to lose consciousness, he whispered back.

"No need to promise. After all, a hunter is never truly alone..."

By the time the lullaby faded and silence again settled over the room, they were soundly sleeping; with nothing disturbing their rest. No guilty conscience. No torturous visions. No nightmares.

And just above where the music box rested, there hung a pair of weapons. An axe and a double-edged blade. A meeting of old and new. Of humble and lavish origins. Yet, both their edges had been dulled and had been in danger of never again reclaiming their former luster. But together, they seemed to shine like new; revealing the beauty beneath the crude and blood-soaked exterior.

The seemingly unending night; whose darkness had almost claimed them both, was finally over. And together they would remain, their union granting them the will to carry on.

And to strive towards a new beginning.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Author's Note: Hey guys.
> 
> I know I said I wouldn't change the ending, but after I published Chapter 6 a couple days ago, I had a sudden realization about something. This entire story I've been focusing on this idea of second-chances and moving past the horrible parts of life; that there's something better waiting for you at the end of it all. And I decided to end a story like this by... having the main character kill himself. After spending God knows how long trying to prevent that very thing from happening.
> 
> A bit tone-deaf, if I do say so myself.
> 
> So, I decided that what this ending needed was an overhaul. Yeah, I know they're still technically both dead, but I figured what better way to tie things up then giving them both a chance at a "new life". I floated an idea like this back when I was still on my first draft, but thought that the whole thing seemed like a tacked on "happily ever after" type affair. But after sitting on it for a while, I decided that everything that happened to them, maybe these two really do deserve something like that.
> 
> As for the original ending, I'll leave it up to you guys to decide what I'm going to do with it. Would you like me to preserve it somehow; maybe as a Scenario A and B for you to choose which ending you want to occur after the battle with the Moon Presence? Or do you actually like this one better? 
> 
> In any case, this is the final draft. I've been working on this thing for almost half a year and think it's in the best state it's ever been. I apologize to my oldest readers who liked my original draft and had to put up with my constant changes, which I acknowledge came from my lack of prior planning before writing this. But despite all that, I am thankful that it's gotten this level of attention. 
> 
> After I'm done with finals, I'll turn that one-shot I wrote a while back into a set of short stories describing a few of the stories Zoran and Maria told each-other, as well as a few original interactions I cut from the story. I love this world, I love it's characters and I love writing them, but I think I've spent more then enough time on this thing.
> 
> Thanks again for reading. Have a wonderful day.


	13. Ach Liebster, bist Du tot? (Alternative Ending)

Maria’s blood-soaked blades cut through the air, each movement made with unparalleled precision and grace. She could feel the effects of her Vileblood heritage slowly eat away at what remained of her essence, but she knew it did not matter. She would fall here regardless.

She carefully watched Zoran’s movements as he expertly maneuvered around her attacks, taking whatever opportunity he could to go on the offensive. Even before their truce, she had developed a begrudging respect for his skill in battle and begun to view him as a worthy opponent. And seeing such a capable warrior being reduced to such despair had completely shattered Maria’s view of him.

Oh, how things have changed since then. When during their last duel, she was driven by nothing but overwhelming hatred towards the hunter, now all she felt was regret. She thought back to the song that had awoken her from her slumber, how utterly demoralized he had appeared as he continued to sing in his native tongue. And it was all because of her.

She had been aware of her true feelings for him for quite some time, but had hesitated in revealing them out of a belief their union would lead to further ruin. But as time went on, their bond only grew stronger and so did her want to remain with him. Ultimately, they both revealed the true nature of their connection and they spent a single night of passion together; laying bare the full extent of their love.

So it was that she was forced to end their meeting; recognizing the harm their union was placing on him. But when he had asked her for one final dance, she couldn’t bring herself to reject him and instead decided to savor whatever time with him she could. And then he offered her one final confession.

Maria always thought herself as one who was able to keep her emotions in check and thus, it was unbecoming of her to be rendered speechless. But as Zoran earnestly expressed his gratitude for her act of mercy, she found herself at a loss for words. Her actions had not ruined his chance at recovering his past self, but had filled him with a newfound appreciation for life.

Yet even as he reaffirmed his love for her, he seemed to think he had been unworthy of her affection; that somehow, he didn’t deserve her. It was then that she chose to confess, not only to him, but also to herself. Somehow, in this forsaken afterlife that sprouted from her very misdeeds, she had managed to fall in love.

But alas, it was not to be.

She held on to a small comfort that no matter what, he would go on. No matter how many times she would strike him down, he would always come back. For her time was long over, while his was only beginning.

As their battle dragged on, she began to notice a perplexing change in Zoran’s movements. When before every move had appeared calculated and methodical, they now seemed to grow more and more erratic; swinging his axe with a carelessness that seemed unbecoming of him. But Maria did not let this impede her. She had to be sure he was ready.

She dashed backwards and took up a stance, preparing to fire a stream of blood in his direction. Yet for whatever reason he did not seem to react, instead placing a hand over his face as his breathing grew heavy. Maria froze, concern beginning to cloud her mind. What was happening to him?

Zoran’s ax suddenly tumbled out of his grip and he clasped his head with both hands, backing away a few steps in between several pained groans. Maria continued to look on in horror as he collapsed to his knees and cried out in agony, still clutching his head. After a while, he looked up at her, his collapsed pupils not hiding the pure terror in his eyes.

“Get…away….”

Tears began to well in Maria’s eyes. This couldn’t be happening. She _couldn’t _let this happen. Not now.

Rushing towards him, she tossed her blade aside as she knelt in front of him and gripped his face with both hands, forcing him to meet her eyes.

“Look at me. LOOK AT ME!” She pleaded in desperation, already noticing signs of the onset of the beastly scourge.

“Zoran, listen to me! Remember who you are. Do not give in! Fight it!” Her words seemed to have little effect, his laboured breaths continuing on as his fingers begin to dig into the floorboards. Suddenly remembering one of his many stories, Maria swiftly took out the music box he had gifted her and wound it up, it’s melody starting to play soon after.

Zoran’s eyes shot open and his breathing relaxed slightly, no doubt recalling the numerous memories associated with that specific tune. He looked back up at her, the recognition in his eyes evident as sentience slowly seemed to return to him. Maria set the music box down, gently placing her hands on both sides of his face and pressing her forehead to his, as tears began to slowly trail down her face.

“Don’t leave me. Please.” She whispered, practically begging. 

After several moments, Zoran’s breathing seemed to slow down to a normal pace and his posture seemed to relax, indicating that the transformation had at least been delayed. Maria found herself trying to figure out how this had come to pass, considering the hunter’s noted distaste for the Healing Blood. Unless…

“Your father’s illness. It wasn’t the real reason you sought out the blood, was it?” She questioned him in a quiet voice.

“No. When I left, he was already nearing the end of his life and would've passed on from natural means. I, on the other hand, had been suffering from much of the same ailments as my mother since I was but a boy. Whatever it was that afflicted her, it…it was hereditary .” He admitted, struggling to get most of the words out.

“By the time I arrived in Yharnam, my illness had all but immobilized me. My sister, she…she died trying to protect me, for I was far too weak to defend myself.” He revealed, his words laced with sorrow and regret.

“Then how did you escape?” She asked, noticing a hole in his narrative.

“I didn’t.” He revealed, Maria immediately realizing what had happened.

“Gascoigne.” Zoran nodded, no doubt remembering the cruel fate that met the old hunter.

“He brought me back to his home, mostly because he knew no one else would take me in. Him and his wife helped me recover, offered me food and medicine. But he also told me that under no circumstances should I seek out the Healing Church, for they were not to be trusted. But soon, my illness began to take it’s toll. I had heard talk of a Clinic not far from their home and went there in the early hours of the morning, where the Minister agreed to lend me his treatment in exchange for joining the Church Hunters. And by that point, I was ready to do anything.”

As Zoran spoke, Maria felt her heart sink even further. Somehow, it wasn’t enough that he had lost everything in his pursuit of the Healing Church; for he was on the brink of death regardless. All the treatment did was delay the inevitable.

“Why didn’t you listen to him? Why couldn’t you have just returned home?”

“Because I was afraid. I was alone in a completely foreign city, with the only family I had left having died before my very eyes. I was certain the return journey would’ve killed me and even if it didn't, I was a deserter; one who wouldn't be welcomed back. So regardless of what I chose, I would almost certainly have died alone.” Tears began to well in his eyes, his voice growing weaker with every word.

“I’m sorry. I…I should’ve told you sooner.” He said as he cast his gaze to the floor.

Maria took advantage of the silence to come to terms with this revelation. He had undergone the process of ministration because he wanted to buy himself some time, no doubt to make something of himself in his final days on Earth. Yet in the end, his original fate seemed preferable to what awaited him now.

“How long?” She demanded.

“Maria, it’s…” He attempted to evade the questioning, but she would have none of it.

“How. Long?” She repeated her demand with greater force, knowing that he had been hiding this for a long time. Though he appeared hesitant, he eventually saw fit to confess.

“For a time, I truly thought I had been cured, but ever since I entered the service of Cainhurst, I felt these-urges. As I cut down my targets, one after another, I was driven on by the euphoria I felt from the kill, for that was all I really had. I almost lost myself to it, until I realized the dark path I was going down. And I’ve been keeping it sealed away ever since, dreading the day when it decided to rear it’s ugly head again.”

He looked back up at her, seeming calm despite the circumstances he found himself in.

“I don’t have much time left.”

“Zoran, no.” Though Maria intended for her words to be assertive, they came out almost desperate.

“Once the beast-hood takes hold, I will cease to be a hunter. I will be severed from the Dream and my body will become mortal once more.” His eyes seemed to bore into hers as she realized what he was asking of her.

“No. No, no, you can’t…I won’t!” There was no confidence in her voice as she pleaded with him, her eyes once again brimming with tears. Through it all, his resigned expression did not seem to change.

“Maria, listen. I was only ever just a hunter. This is a fate none of us can escape.” Though he spoke in a calm and collected voice, it spurred further frustration within her. How could he give up like this?

“Don’t you dare! You can’t just lay down and accept this. I won’t let you! You were supposed to …I was …” She fell silent as tears ran down her face, overcome with grief as she realized that her plan had completely fallen apart.

“This wasn’t supposed to happen.”

Maria suddenly felt Zoran place his hand on one of hers, not breaking her gaze for a moment. Gripping the hand, he gently guided it away from his face and proceeded to grasp it with both of his, offering her a warm smile as she felt him place something in her hand.

“Fate has never truly been on our side, Maria. Why should that change now?”

Looking down, she audibly gasped at what she saw. It was the wooden cross he had carried with him, still attached to the chain; his sister's cross. Looking back up at him, she wore a mask of unmistakable shock, unsure of how to respond.

“The worst part of being alone was knowing what awaited me; knowing that I would end up a beast, and that no-one would be there to put me out of my misery when I did. I would forget everything. My home. My name. What it's like to feel joy and sorrow. The only thing that I would know, and continue to know, was how to hunt and kill. I long thought that would be my fate, until our paths aligned."

He closed her fist over the cross, gripping it as she was rendered speechless yet again. He smiled at her, even as tears began to well in his eyes.

“Maria. You're the the greatest thing to have ever happened to me. Because of you, I was able to revisit all the things that made life worth living, small things I thought I would never be able to experience again. And if these are to be my final moments on this Earth, my only wish is that I get the chance to remain with you until the bitter end-my love.”

The two continued to gaze at each-other in silence as a hurricane of sorrow raged inside Maria. She wanted to scream, to curse the hands of fate for being so cruel as to let this happen to him. But nothing came out. Instead, she found herself refusing to accept what was transpiring before her very eyes.

“Don't go." She pleaded. "I don't want you to go. Not like this." She knew her pleading would accomplish nothing, but she refused to accept this. To accept that she could do nothing to save him.

"It's okay." Zoran calmly said in an attempt to quell her anguish, which only served to strengthen it.

"No, it's not!" She wailed. "You've been marked! The Nightmare will take you, and you'll never be able to find rest. And I will have condemned you here, because I...because I was too much off a fool to bury my sins when I had the chance! ”

She lowered her head in shame, finding herself unable to look him in the eye.

“I failed you. You were my last chance to make things right and I failed you. I failed _everyone_.”

Placing a hand underneath her chin, Zoran gently raised her head so she was looking at him before offering her a warm smile.

“No. You didn't fail me. I've lived a life full of regrets and for the first time in my life, I've made peace with them. And, I know..." His hand cupped her cheek and brushed against the side of her head. "I know that this isn't the end of your story. Nightmares and dreams, they may seem out of our control when they are set in motion, but...we do choose when we wake up."

His hand still on her cheek, Zoran closed the distance between them and gently kissed her, a gesture which Maria returned with the same tenderness, knowing this was the last time she would be able to do so. He withdrew the hand that had closed her fist over the cross and this time, she let it go.

After he pulled away, Maria found herself gazing longingly at the hunter before her, who despite the innumerable hardships that befell him, awaited his end with a smile. For it was because of a single act of mercy that helped him find the will to carry on in the face of absolute adversity; to find forgiveness within himself for all the grievous acts he had committed. And to grant another lost soul the chance to do the same.

She wrapped her arms around him and pulled him into an embrace, which he gently returned as he attempted to console her. As she tried to calm herself down, she found herself thinking about just how unlikely this development in their relationship had been; how many blocks had to fall into place for it to have happened in the first place.

“Do you remember the first time we met?” She suddenly asked him, eliciting a slight chuckle.

“Your idea of an honest death was blowing a hole through my chest?” He replied, causing her to smile in spite of herself.

“I said I was sorry, didn’t I?” She reminded him.

“Aye, you did. But don’t think I’ve forgotten that you still owe me another jacket.” This caused Maria to chuckle, unable to believe that even in the face of certain death, he had not lost his peculiar sense of humor.

“You boy, are insufferable.” She said in a gentle tone.

“It’s part of my charm.” He replied, not showing an ounce of fear at his predicament. Despite the sarcastic nature of his remark, Maria had in fact found his frank, yet lighthearted personality endearing; which made the predicament she found him in all the more heartbreaking.

Despite how vastly different their upbringings had been, they somehow found themselves in the same position; alone and lost in a seemingly never-ending sea of tragedies. He came to her a broken man with nothing left to lose, the kind and compassionate soul he had once been having been smothered by Yharnam’s incessant cruelty; but her time with him was the happiest she had ever been. He had brought a small beacon of hope, letting her know that she was not alone, even as she was trapped in a hell of her own creation. And that it was never too late to try and better yourself.

“I love you, Zoran.” She softly proclaimed.

“And I you, my dear Lady Maria.”

Not long after their mutual declaration, his breathing began to grow more pronounced, with Maria taking the time to pick up her discarded weapon, mentally preparing herself for her eventual task. She held on to him as he began to take long, pained gasps; all while tightening his grip on her as the transformation began to take effect.

The first noticeable effect was that large strands of fur had begun to emerge all over his body, all while he continued to make the same, agonized sound. Maria suddenly felt something dig into her back, sparing a side-ward glance to find, much to her horror, that his hands had transformed into beastly paws; it’s jagged claws threatening to pierce her skin at any moment.

Realizing that the time had come, Maria hovered her blade in front of his chest, hoping to grant him a quick, merciful death. But as the moments ticked by and the agonized hunter slipped further into beast hood, her hand began to shake as her heart hammered against her rib-cage, whatever willpower she had left crumbling as she found herself unable to finish him.

Seemingly sensing her hesitation, he raised his head and revealed a ghastly, almost animalistic visage; any sign of the man he once was having completely vanished. Yet somehow, she could make out the fear in his eyes.

“Please….”

Maria’s throat constricted and she found herself incapable of saying anything in response, but she knew that he likely would not have understood her regardless. He was no longer there.

She plunged the Rakuyo into his chest, the beast letting out a pained whimper as the blade pierced his heart. Maria then drove it further into his chest, pulling him close to her and embracing him as he began to writhe weakly against her frame, mostly to avoid looking him in the eyes as he died. Zoran continued to stir for the next few seconds, sucking in several desperate breaths. And suddenly, she felt something grip her arm just before a quiet, pained voice uttered...

"Thank...you..."

The Clocktower fell silent and his hold on her arm gave way soon after. And it was as if a part of her very being had simply shriveled up and died.

Maria waited for him to fade away, to be awakened in due course to return and try his hand at besting her yet again. He would come back. He always did. Yet even after several minutes, his body remained.

“Good Hunter?”

No response.

“Zoran?”

Still no response.

“Come back. Please, come back to me. Your path is not yet ended." She softly pleaded with him, even though she knew she was merely fooling herself.

He was gone.

"Zoran, please. This can’t be how it ends. It’s not fair. IT’S NOT FAIR!”

Maria’s anguished weeping echoed throughout the empty tower as she cradled Zoran’s lifeless body in her arms. Everything had fallen apart. She was supposed to have fallen here, allowing him to go forward and end the Nightmare for good. Instead, the hands of fate decided to show their cruelty one last time and now, his troubled soul would never find rest.

He had truly died for nothing.

She did not know how long she remained in that position, but the grief felt just as potent even as the tears subsided and Maria could finally bring herself to open her eyes again. Looking at what had become of her beloved, she found that even with the grisly fate that had met him, he appeared to be at peace. Except she knew that wasn’t the case, for as long as this Nightmare persisted, he could not find comfort even in death.

After gently removing her weapon from his chest, she scooped up the hunter’s body in her arms and carried him outside the Clocktower, passing by the lantern that had served as his link to the Hunter’s Dream, where a group of tiny creatures prostrated themselves on the ground beneath the extinguished source of light. Setting his body down in the fields and taking his discarded axe in her hands, she pressed its serrated edge into the ground and began to dig, toiling away for several minutes until the hole she made seemed to be large enough.

Setting the weapon down, she once again picked up his long cold body and slowly laid him down in the makeshift grave. As she looked down at him, she saw that the brooch she had given him remained on his collar; a symbol of their bond and of her love. She solemnly folded his hands over the pendant and leaned in to press her lips to his forehead, her hand resting on his. She then began to move the earth back into place with the axe, the process taking an excruciating amount of time to conclude.

After she had laid down the last few clumps of soil, Maria stood up and looked down at the makeshift grave, bowing her head in sorrow. It was hardly the burial he deserved, but it would have to suffice for the time being. Taking out the cross he had bestowed upon her, she gazed at it for a few moments before closing her fist around it, determination flowing through her.

She walked over to the railing with his axe in hand and held it out. She briefly considered using it to mark his grave or to keep it as a reminder, but decided against it. She didn't want this to be the item that defined his memory.

Maria let go of the weapon and watched as it plummeted into the depths below. Casting one more look at Zoran’s final resting place, she made her way back into the Clocktower with newfound purpose. As she marched towards the clockwork, she noticed the tiny music box on the floor, left there in her haste.

Kneeling down, she picked up the innocuous item, holding it in her hands as her mind hearkened back to the means by which he had acquired it. The reason for Zoran’s fondness of the box became clear, for it served as a reminder of the man that had saved him from certain death and how the hunt had torn his family apart. And the significance of his bequeathing it to her became even greater. Standing to her full height, she placed it back in her coat pocket, thankful that she at least had something to remember him by.

Stepping over the ruins of her chair, she knelt down in front of what looked like a coffin, covered in several lumenflowers. Taking in a deep breath, she swung it open and came face to face with...herself.

She was lying in state, though her body had long ago decayed; having never truly been put to rest. And in her hands, she clenched a pendant bearing a striking similarity the clockwork before her. Maria reached for it and took the item in her hands, glancing one more time at her remains before she closed the coffin.

Standing up, she raised the pendant overhead and soon, she could hear the ancient, rusting gears beginning to shift back to life; allowing the intricate clockwork to turn for the first time in many decades; soon revealing a narrow opening to the heart of the Nightmare. As she approached the passage, Maria looked back at the decrepit tower where she had wasted away for so long, where she had ended up taking her own life out of desperation. And the cause of it all lay through this small passageway.

"It won’t be in vain. I promise"

With that, Maria stepped through the opening. She had run from her past for far too long. Now she would bury it, once and for all.

She owed him that much.

………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………….

The first thing that met her was the pungent smell of the ocean, the feeling of rain splashing against her face and a deathly, almost ethereal silence. Maria would not dare open her eyes, knowing exactly what awaited her when she did. Eventually, she slowly peeled open her eyes; unmistakable dread overtaking her as she saw it.

The Hamlet. That accursed, unseemly secret she had been guarding for so long. The source of the Hunter’s Nightmare.

Maria had hoped never again to return to it, to simply let it fade away from the collective consciousness, lost and forgotten to time. But now, she knew that the only way for that to happen was to confront it head on, lest the curse continue to claim generation after generation.

Dropping down from the narrow platform she found herself on, she landed on a flooded walkway, her well-tailored footwear preventing the water from soaking in. Taking a moment to collect herself, she hesitantly began to make her way towards the small village, tightly gripping her Rakuyo in preparation. From a distance, it appeared to be devoid of life, but as she moved closer, she could see a single figure slowly approaching her.

“_Byrgenwerth...Byrgenwerth...Blasphemous murderers...Blood-crazed fiends...Atonement for the wretches...By the wrath of Mother Kos...Mercy for the poor, wizened child...”_

It did not seem to pay her any attention, continuing to trudge on even as she brandished her weapon to defend herself.

_"Lay the curse of blood upon them, and their children, and their children's children, for evermore. Each wretched birth will plunge each child into a lifetime of misery. Let the pungence of Kos cling, like a mother's devotion..."_

Maria froze, the creature’s mangled words seemingly cutting into her very soul. Images of that faithful night flashed through her mind; the distressed cries and prayers of the hamlet’s denizens as they were mindlessly butchered, the horrific sounds their weapons had made as they split open their skulls, the pungent smell of the blood-soaked water.

And the last sound Kos’ child had made as Gherman cut it from its mother’s body.

Maria fought back a wave of nausea, horrified of her complicity in this atrocity. For a time, she had tried to convince herself they had done the right thing, that the Hamlet residents had gravely misused the celestial insight gifted to them; but despite everything, she knew that she had partook in an act of senseless barbarism. She should’ve stopped it, but instead, she had gone along with Master Wilhelm’s commands. And her weakness ended up condemning thousands.

After composing herself, she began to make her way further into the village, a dark feeling of familiarity meeting her as she waded through the knee-deep water. She remained on guard, knowing that if she was felled, she would not get a second chance. She had to do this cleanly and discreetly. Just like old times.

A mangled, humanoid figure similar the one she encountered earlier crawled from underneath one of the huts, wielding a long, jagged plank resembling a spear. Though it snarled in seeming recognition, it did not get the chance to act as Maria decapitated it with a single strike. She could not risk letting it alert it’s brethren, whom almost certainly lay in wait. Turning the corner, she could see a company of similar creatures making their way to the village square, wielding spears and rakes. Slowly making her way towards them, she grabbed one of them around the neck and drove her dagger into its brain, killing it instantly. Dashing forward, she impaled his companion through the chest just as he noticed her presence and jammed the dagger into its throat. Sensing movement behind her, she pulled out her Evelyn and let a shot fly, hitting a third just as he was winding up to throw a javelin in her direction. Once her current target had went limp, she freed her blades and made her way towards the square, noticing another pair of the denizens kneeling in front of a hooded figure, who was leaning against a…

Maria’s eyes darted open as she recognized the structure. A well. Could it be the same one where she had…

Her thoughts were suddenly interrupted as a purple aura erupted around the hooded figure and several apparitions resembling skulls made their way towards her. Sensing no way to escape, she sprinted towards the figure, turning into mist to avoid the incoming projectiles and reformed in front of him, driving her saber through his head. Quickly pulling it out, she spun around and cleaved one of the worshipers in two, before barely managing to block an incoming strike from his companion. Pushing forward with all her might, she reconnected her blades and thrust forward, skewering the creature. Pulling her blade out of its corpse, Maria took a moment to catch her breath; before being snapped out of her stupor by an ear-shattering cry.

Turning towards the source of the noise, she laid eyes on a massive, slack-jawed giant, flanked by several of the weaker denizens of the Hamlet. Out of the corner of her eye, she could also see several more pouring out of the barnacle-riddled huts to her right, no doubt alerted by the giant’s cries. If that wasn’t enough, half a dozen others suddenly appeared on the other end of the square, making their way in her direction. There was little chance she could fight them all off alone, her prowess meaning little in the face of vastly superior numbers. She had to get to safety, but where?

Laying eyes on the well once again, she noticed that a ladder was attached to its rims. Hesitating for only a moment, she rushed towards it and grabbed on to the ladder just as a javelin lodged itself right next to her head. Though the grips were unsurprisingly slippery, Maria began to descend into the well, though she noted that no-one seemed to be following her. Reaching the bottom, she struggled to catch her breath, doing her best to ignore the rancid stench brought about by the long rotten corpses of the strange creatures in the water.

Suddenly, she heard heavy steps coming from behind her, accompanied by what sounded like snarling. She just barely managed to move out of the way as a massive anchor descended on the spot she had just been, sending water and mutilated corpses flying into the air. She had to evade several more swings of the anchor before she was able to go on the offensive, grazing the giant across its abdomen with her blade, but this seemed to barely faze the lumbering monstrosity. The beast launched itself towards her, dragging itself along the ground with its maw agape as it let loose a bone-chilling snarl. Side-stepping the attack, Maria ran towards it as it was recovering and dug her longer blade into one of its legs, the beast letting out an agonized cry that reverberated throughout the cave. The creature swung its enormous weapon in her direction, forcing her to retreat. Though the creature’s skin was thick, its attacks were terribly predictable. She should be able to…

The floor beneath her shook as yet another giant dropped down into the cave, beginning to slowly lumber towards her. She did not have time to voice her surprise as it’s companion once again swung its weapon at her, slamming into the wall behind her and sending several chunks of bedrock flying into the air. Retreating to the opposite end of the cave, Maria was overwhelmed by desperation as she realized the precarious situation she found herself in. She was trapped with two overwhelmingly powerful beasts, without any means of resurrection upon her death. Her blades seemed to do little to no damage to them and she doubted she lacked the endurance to keep up with their unrelenting aggression.

The anchor-wielding giant continued to pursue her, dragging its weapon along the ground as it charged towards her. Maria closed her eyes and tightly gripped her weapon, not letting the impending threat distract her. The giant descended upon its seemingly helpless prey, clubbing weapon raised overhead…

It suddenly froze in place, the anchor slipping from its grip as it dropped to its knees in front of Maria. Letting out a pained gurgle, the creature collapsed on it’s front, the water around it turning red as blood began to pour from the gaping hole in its chest. Turning her attention to the second giant, who seemed utterly unfazed by his companion’s sudden demise, Maria gripped her two blood-soaked blades and rushed to meet it head on. As the creature mindlessly swung one of its arms at her, she dashed under it and dragged her blade across its side, leaving a deep gash as she went. Turning around just as it reacted to it’s wound, she unleashed an unrelenting flurry of swings on the creature, each one leaving a noticeable mark. The giant flailed its arms around in seeming desperation, but Maria once again sailed under its attack and severed one of its legs in a single motion, letting it roar in pain as it crumpled to the ground. Not yet spent, the creature attempted to snap at her with its enormous jaws, though she evaded its desperate attacks with little effort, dashing back after it’s third attempt and swinging her blade’s in a horizontal motion. The top half of the creature’s head sailed through the air and landed not far from its body, which slightly twitched for a few seconds before it finally went limp.

Breathing heavily, Maria swung her blades to the sides, removing the thick layer of blood coating them. She was never able to recover the strength she had lost during her final battle with Zoran, which made any usage of her Vileblood abilities risky. If she carried on like this, she would never be able to fulfill her promise to him.

A peculiar shining in the water near where the mutilated behemoth lay caught her eye, drawing her closer. Even before she reached it, Maria had concluded exactly what it was. Kneeling down, her hand hovered over the water in a moment of hesitation, before she plunged it downwards and swiftly pulled out the item, her eyes glistening with a mixture of nostalgia and loathing.

Her beloved Rakuyo, long ago abandoned in disgust of the life she had crafted for herself. The pale imitation she wielded now was forced upon her by the Nightmare, serving as a representation of all the darkest aspects of her life. But this one was not in tune with Cainhurst’s blood arts, instead relying on the wielder’s dexterity, a quality she had been fond of once upon a time. Before she had used it to cut down so many of the Hamlet’s helpless inhabitants so long ago.

Hesitantly holding out the weapon in front of her, she observed the engravings along the weapon’s handles, scarcely showing signs of age despite the length of time it has rested here. She then griped both handles of the weapon as her hands shook, before pulling them apart and holding them on either side, her eyes shut as she felt acceptance return to her.

This blade had crafted this Nightmare. Now it will unravel it.

Rising to her feet, she placed her old weapon on the sheathe on her side, before turning to make her way back to the ladder. As she cleared the first few rungs, she cast one more look at the cursed model concocted by the Nightmare, the one that had been stained with Zoran’s blood. It could still prove useful to her, if only she used it sparingly…

No. That wasn’t what she was.

As she continued her ascent to the surface, Maria prepared herself for combat with the small army that no doubt awaited her. But as she approached the top of the ladder, she could hear nothing but the sound of the rain, continuing to fall onto the dilapidated roofs. Cautiously raising her head over the well, she found that the bodies of the Hamlet’s inhabitants littered the town square, without a soul in sight. Finally exiting the well, she approached one of the corpses and knelt down beside it, trying to find the means of its demise. That’s when she noticed something sticking out of its neck.

An arrow? Where on Earth had this come from?

Maria looked around the square to realize that each denizen had one of the projectiles lodged somewhere in their bodies, each one seemingly hitting its mark with deadly precision. Even the giant that had alerted them lay dead in a heap, with several serrated arrows piercing the top of its head. Scanning the rooftops around her, she could not see any sign of the perpetrator, but Maria remained on guard. She wasn’t alone.

She noticed something on the creature in front of her, something she had not expected to see. A blood vial; how the Hamlet had acquired them, she had no idea, but she swiftly claimed the small canister and plunged it into her thigh, feeling instant relief wash over her as she regained some of her lost strength. Collecting any remaining vials from the corpses of the Hamlet denizens, she made her way to the other end of the square, where a similar sight awaited her. Except instead of arrows, this group of creatures seemed to have met their end by a serrated blade. What sort of weapon could’ve caused this?

She noticed a decaying lighthouse further up the hill, the only visible source of shelter. Whoever was here before her had cleared her a path, so she was able to reach it with little trouble. But as she approached it, she was met with a familiar sight. A lone headstone, with a Lumenflower placed just in front of it. She remembered then that she had returned to the Hamlet long after the massacre had occurred and placed this headstone there as a memorial of the foul deed that had occurred there, before abandoning the hunter’s life for good. But this gesture did nothing to spare her from the wrath of the deceased Great One below.

As she approached the headstone, she mentally prepared herself for the sight that awaited her, looking over the wooden railing to look into the chasm below. And then she saw her.

Mother Kos, the patron saint of the Fishing Hamlet. And the hunter’s original sin.

It seemed as if her ethereal voice was back in her head, cursing her to suffer for all eternity for her blasphemous defilement. Maria backed away from the railing as the voices grew louder and rushed into the abandoned lighthouse, prostrating herself on the wet, decaying floor boards as she desperately struggled to disperse the utterings in her mind.

Suddenly, she heard a low, seemingly pained wheeze come from behind her, snapping her back to reality. Slowly turning her head, she noticed a man resembling a corner beggar clutching at a wound on his side, his head lowered as he steadied himself against the wall. Blood dripped onto the floor as the stranger struggled to draw breath.

“Oh…there you are. What took you so…” The man raised his head as he struggled to speak and went silent once he realized Maria’s presence. To her confusion, he seemed to recognize her.

“You? But…where is…” As he attempted to question her, Maria noticed a shift in his expression, going from confusion to realization to anger in mere seconds.

“No. No, you didn’t… I’ll kill you, you backstabbing…argh.” Maria rose to her feet as the stranger attempted to make his way towards her before collapsing to his knees, dropping his curved blade and once again clutching his wound. In between his labored breaths, it seemed as if the man was sobbing.

“Why didn’t you listen? You bloody fool…” The man quietly muttered, confusing Maria even further. But as she looked down at the gravely wounded stranger, she suddenly realized the source of his anger.

“The hunter. You knew him?” She softly asked, causing the stranger to look up at her. Despite his eyes being covered by well-worn bandages, they did little to hide his grief.

“He…he was my friend.” The man eventually responded, his voice breaking from the mixture of pain and sorrow.

She did not recall Zoran ever making mention of someone of his description, but she had little reason to doubt the validity of his words. He must not have been aware of the hunter’s passing and had been awaiting him here to continue further into the Nightmare, having slain the denizens blocking her path from a distance. But it seemed his patience eventually ran out and he pushed forward alone, which led to the state he was in now.

“Who did this to you?” She asked after a lengthy silence.

“Go to hell.” He responded, not trying to hide the hatred in his voice.

“Your anger is misplaced. Our goals are aligned in this matter.” She rebuked, which seemed to reignite the anger within the wounded stranger.

“Misplaced? If it weren’t for you and your ilk, I would not have to be here at all! You guarded the source of this nightmare with your life and now you would have me believe you wish to end it?! You had the opportunity to do so for years and yet you did nothing, wallowing in self-pity while you condemned thousands to eternal torment!” The stranger’s words were laced with contempt, but what he said next caused her to recoil.

“I warned him about you. I knew from the beginning you were merely biding your time, waiting for the opportunity to end his pursuit of the secrets you guard for good. My biggest regret is that I didn’t kill you when I had the chance.”

Maria felt as if a stake had been driven through her heart. In a way, the stranger was right. Her actions had indeed delayed Zoran’s descent into this part of the Nightmare, even though she had not done it out of malice as he implied. Regardless, this delay granted time for the beast-hood that plagued him to reemerge and just as she had thought she had done right by him, it had consumed him. He did not even get the chance to die human, condemned to eternal damnation for a crime he was not responsible for. All because of her own selfish desires.

It wasn’t fair. Not to him nor to any other soul trapped in this forsaken landscape. And it took him dying in front of her very eyes for her to realize that.

“I’m sorry.” She quietly uttered, which seemed to catch the man by surprise.

“Excuse me?” He said with an aggressive undertone, as if offended by her chose of words.

“You’re right. If it weren’t for the actions of my order, then this Nightmare would not exist. Though I may deserve this fate, the same can not be said for the hunters of modernity. You shouldn’t have to contend with the sins of your forebears, simply because they were far too stubborn to accept their own misdoings. And now, I am doing what I should’ve done a long time ago.”

The stranger looked up at her, seemingly to stunned to respond. Maria continued.

“I am not asking for forgiveness, for my share of sins is far to great to absolve. But understand that I am here to put the wrongly condemned souls of the Nightmare to rest, for they have suffered because of my selfishness for far too long.”

After she concluded her address, the stranger cast his eyes to the floor in what she could only assume was disbelief. Despite clearly stating her intentions, she did not press him, knowing that he had sufficient reason to be distrustful of her. After several moments had passed, he spoke once again and she found herself surprised by what he said.

“You loved him, didn’t you?”

A fresh wave of sorrow washed over her, causing her to turn away from the stranger as she held back the urge to cry again, struggling to cast the painful image of Zoran’s final moments from her mind. It was hard for her to accept that all her efforts to get him to carry on had amounted to nothing, that she had sealed his fate the moment she decided to break the status quo. As she tried to suppress her grief, she heard the man softly chuckle beneath her.

“In over his head till the bitter end.” He began to chuckle again before devolving into a brief fit of coughing. The arm he was using to support himself suddenly gave way and he collapsed to the floor, the severity of his injuries seemingly overwhelming him. Approaching the ailing stranger, Maria gently hoisted him up and helped him to the wall he had been supporting himself against earlier, setting him down as his breathing grew weaker.

“I offered him a way out, you know.” He suddenly stated, once again catching Maria by surprise, curious as to what he meant. “I gave him a chance to return to the waking world, to forget the Nightmare and return to his hunt unabated, without having to force himself to face you. Yet he turned me down, told me that it was his responsibility to see his task through to the end. That poor, stubborn fool… but at least he suffers in silence no longer.”

Maria found herself in complete disbelief. Zoran had been granted an opportunity to rid himself of the burden her death would’ve placed on his shoulders and he had refused it, instead choosing to move forward. He had decided to accept his mistakes and try to atone for them, while also intending to put her to rest himself. Alas that none of it came to pass.

“Who did this to you?” She gently restated her question after she had processed the meaning of his statement.

“The beast-hide assassin. Brador is his name and he guards the inner sanctums of the Hamlet, ensuring that the secrets of the Church remain hidden. Beware, for his arrival is accompanied with the toll of a sinister bell and that that he…” The stranger doubled over, whatever he wanted to say next interrupted by a fresh fit of coughing. His body then slumped against the wall, his breathing growing faint.

“What is your name, stranger?” She asked the ailing stranger, gently grasping his hand in an attempt to comfort him.

“Si…Simon.” The stranger responded with noticeable difficulty.

“Easy now. Do not be afraid. Though the night may have been long, it’s darkness will not follow you forever.” She could feel Simon’s grip weaken, his head falling against the wall behind him as he struggled to draw breath.

“The hunt is near it’s end. Go now. Be at peace.”

Simon clung on to life for a few more moments before his body went rigid, the sound of his labored breaths replaced with the sound of the deluge falling upon the waning lighthouse. Maria stayed there for the next little while, uttering a small prayer for the late hunter in hope it will grant his soul safe passage. Releasing his hand, Maria rose to her feet, knowing that there was little more she can do for him.

Exiting the lighthouse, she continued the way she was heading before she was diverted. Passing by the headstone, she descended down an old plank that lead to a rooftop overlooking the sea, with several long sunken ship poles poking out in the distance. As she carefully made her way along the rooftop, she heard something in the distance. The tolling of a bell.

Turning the corner, she saw a figure emerge on a rooftop opposite her, which was connected by what looked like a run-down bridge. He was coated in a blood-red aura and even from this distance, it appeared as if a pair of antlers were jutting from his head.

It was as Simon had said. The beast-hide assassin.

Approaching the bridge separating them, Maria noticed that the assassin had not moved from his spot, instead gripping his strange, mace like weapon as he followed her movements.

“Well, well. Look who’s here.” The assassin said in a mocking tone, seemingly recognizing her.

“Now what brings the legendary Lady Maria to such an obscure village? Did the hunt beckon you here? In the midst of a little soul-searching, perhaps?”

Maria ignored the man’s words, recognizing that he was mocking her. It must have been an attempt to have her question her reason for coming here, but she somehow knew that he was well aware of her intentions.

“Brador, was it? Tell me, what do you gain from perpetuating this Nightmare’s existence?” A part of her was genuinely curious as to the assassin’s motivations, but she had asked this mostly as a retort to his earlier mocking, to cast doubt on his actions. Judging from the laughter that he offered as an answer, it did not have the intended effect.

“Oh, we all have secrets we wish to keep hidden, don’t we? I’m sure you would understand that better than anyone.” Maria did not grant him the satisfaction of hearing her response, instead glaring at him with unmistakable contempt.

“Aye, but you see, that’s the difference between you and I. You ran from your misdeeds, while I embraced mine.”

Maria recoiled as Brador plunged his mace into his chest and pulled it out to reveal an enormous, twisted weapon resembling a morning star, the scale of his manipulation of blood beyond that of even the most seasoned Cainhurst knight. She had little time to process this however, as the assassin rushed towards her and swung the weapon in a wide arc, the limited space on the bridge they found themselves on forcing her to duck. Brador followed up with two more swings of his weapon, though Maria dashed backwards in order to grant herself more space. The assassin chased after her, slamming his weapon into the ground multiple times, cackling like a madman as she maneuvered around his onslaught. Despite his great strength, his movements were slow and careless, leaving a clear opening for Maria to thrust her blade forward…

Her blade bounced harmlessly of his body, her arm recoiling and leaving her momentarily defenseless. The assassin spun around and managed to strike her in the chest with his twisted weapon, sending her flying of the bridge and tumbling along the rooftop below her before landing on the ground, the water below barely cushioning her fall. Maria struggled to get up as the pain from Brador’s strike enveloped her chest, made worse from the damage she sustained from the fall. Seeing no other option, she dug out a blood vial and plunged it into her thigh, feeling immediate relief from the pain; though it seemed that the damage done by the assassin’s weapon left a separate mark, for a slight pain lingered even as she felt her ribs repair themselves.

Maria quickly rolled to the side just as a bolt of lightning descended on the spot she had just been, looking up to find a cloaked figure holding a long staff on one of the rooftops. The figure slammed his staff into the ground and yet another bolt descended upon her, forcing her to sidestep it yet again. She quickly scanned the area she found herself in, looking for any means of escape. Spotting a ladder on the opposite end of the flooded street, Maria sprinted towards it, avoiding additional strikes of lightning as she did; only to have her path blocked by several more of the mutated denizens. They snarled as they rushed towards her, brandishing their crude weaponry as another pair of creatures resembling a cross between a dog and a fish ran out from behind them. One of the mutations pounced at her, its jaws aimed directly at her throat before being cut down by an intercepting swing from the Rakuyo, a similar fate meeting its companion soon after. As the humanoid figures approached her, Maria waited for them to come closer and just as one of them attempted to skewer her with its spear, she evaporated into mist and reformed behind them. The creatures convulsed as the lightning coursed through their bodies, before collapsing into the water in a heap and allowing Maria to resume her escape unabated.

After she had reached the top of the ladder, Maria ran through an abandoned hut and back to the rooftops, where she saw no sign of the beast-hide assassin. Eyeing an opening on a far away roof, she ran across a smaller bridge and took the time to cut down the mage that had bombarded her with his magic. Though the immediate threats had been eliminated, Maria kept her guard up, knowing that Brador surely lay in wait. Reaching the other end of the rooftops, she cautiously entered a narrow doorway that led to what she hoped was her means of reaching that opening she saw earlier. As she went through the doorway, she ducked as the assassin swung her weapon at her head, splintering the weak wall behind her. He quickly followed up by slamming it into the ground, only succeeding in creating a massive dent in the decayed floorboards as she rolled out of danger. Splitting her weapon in two, she spun around and slashed Brador across his chest as he was recovering, finding that her strike was not redirected as it had been last time. Not giving him a chance to recover, she rushed forward and pinned the assassin to the wall, her blade hovering over his throat.

“Are you going to kill me? After all you’ve done, kill me? As if to right your wrongs?” Brador mockingly questioned her as he grinned from ear to ear, before emitting a quiet, yet deep laugh.

Maria recognized that the assassin was once again trying to use her guilt against her, probably in an attempt to get her guard down. She did not falter in the face of his words, slitting his throat with her dagger without saying a word in response. Releasing him, she watched as his body collapsed to its knees and then fell onto its side, but she could’ve sworn that the grin he had sported before was present even as he faded away into nothing. With the beast-hide assassin eliminated, she exited the narrow passageway and climbed up a nearby ladder, finally reaching the passageway she had seen earlier.

Entering the cave, Maria surveyed her surroundings. Several narrow walkways overlooked a massive cavern, with the slightest misstep risking a fatal drop to the ground below. As she made her way further into the cave, she was hit with a potent stench, similar to the one she had encountered in the well. Casting a glance down to the ground below, she noticed that the water appeared to be colored white, before she realized that they were strewn with the corpses of the slug-like creatures she had noticed earlier, as well as seemingly empty shells. She also noticed an opening to another cave, which gave her an idea of where she must go.

Carefully walking along a narrow bridge, she cut down the handful of mutated denizens that barred her path, casting their bodies over the side as she did. Noticing a pair of hooded mages, she ran straight towards them, firing a shot from her Evelyn to prevent one of them from casting a spell as she ran the other through with her blade. Maria derived no pleasure from their deaths, with each mutant she slew only serving to remind her of the horrors she had committed in Byrgenwerth’s name. But the only way she could put them to rest was to end the Nightmare for good and she could not allow them to stop her. After restocking on supplies by searching their bodies, she made her way down to the bottom of the cave via a nearby ladder, it's stench growing ever stronger as her feet reached the floor.

Looking over the widespread cavern, everything suddenly clicked into place. The creatures in the water had been harvested from Kos’ body, which had been infested with other-worldly parasites. The Hamlet had based their entire way of life around this abundant collection of parasites, using them both as a source of food and fuel, the latter serving as the basis for their local economy. They had worshiped Mother Kos because they had considered her appearance in their village to be a blessing, granting them an endless bounty of resources that allowed them to abandon their earlier, much more perilous fishing lifestyle. However, the combination of ingesting the parasites and polluting the air with their nightmarish aura lead to the state they found themselves in now, no more then mindless abominations toiling away with menial tasks as their once prosperous village fell to ruin around them.

As she observed the vast chasm, she heard movement of to her side, followed by several more from all directions. Looking at one of the many seemingly empty shells that littered the flooded ground, she was horrified to see pale, feminine figures emerge from them, all seemingly aware of her intrusion. The creatures seemed to be burdened by the weight of their shells, which granted time for Maria to run towards the cave opening on the other end of the cavern. As she made her way inside, she could see a small source of light, as well as what appeared to be a shell-less variant of the creatures she had just encountered, though strangely, they did not appear to be moving. She rushed towards the light, with the night-sky growing ever closer…

Maria’s was sent flying by a sudden impact to her side, her back hitting the bedrock wall behind her. Her entire body erupted in pain, her vision going blurry as she cried out in anguish. Collapsing onto the flooded ground, she could just barely make out a humanoid figure approaching her, though he appeared to be more beast then man. As she weakly tried to rise to her feet, the man erupted into rapturous laughter, seemingly relishing the pain he was inflicting.

“Poor little hunter, lost in the Nightmare. What is it? Did you grow bored of playing with your little lab-rats? Did you miss this? The thrill of the hunt?!”

Maria forced herself to move out of the way of Brador’s incoming swing despite the pain that plagued her body and drove her dagger into his leg, the assassin crying out in pain and dropping into a genuflect. She then took off running in the direction of a set of diverting cave paths, hoping to gain enough distance between her and the assassin to regain her strength. Running into a narrow passage way that was strewn with the corpses of the feminine creatures, Maria supported herself against the wall with one arm and used the other to plunge a blood vial into her thigh, wincing in pain as the damage Brador had dealt to her slowly repaired itself.

“Still running, are we? Denial will get you nowhere.” She sprang back to full attention as she heard the assassin’s voice echo throughout the cave, though she could not see him.

“I am not running from anything. I know exactly what I am.” She fired back at her pursuer, not allowing herself to give into fear.

“Oh, is that so? Then why is it you shun your true nature; the gift that has graced your bloodline since the days of the Pthumerians?” Brador swiftly rebutted, while Maria struggled to pinpoint the location his voice originated from.

“I am not the monster Annalise made me. The nobles of Cainhurst cast away their humanity and stained the integrity of all fabrics of their society in their blind pursuit of destiny. And I will ensure their despicable blood arts are forgotten along with them.” She knew her words would do little to sway the assassin, but she persisted merely to prove to him that she had nothing left to hide.

“Yet again, you pontificate about honor? One would think that with all the times you stabbed others in the back that you are not so different from the nobles you distance yourself from.” Surely, he could not think that what he was doing was just. Why would he bother bringing this up?

“How did it feel? Watching him die?”

Upon hearing those words, Maria’s eyes widened in shock and her throat constricted, finding herself incapable of responding. However, this shock quickly boiled over into anger as she realized what he was suggesting.

“Leave him out of this.” She demanded in indignation, but all Brador responded with was another bout of crazed laughter.

“Oh, what's wrong? Did I touch a nerve? Surely you know that his demise was of your doing?” Maria tried her hardest to drown out his words, realizing exactly what he was doing.

“I did it at his request. There was no way to save him.” She weakly responded, but this seemed to be the response Brador was waiting for.

“Ah, but you see, that isn't quite the full picture, now is it? Face the cold, hard truth Maria; you condemned him. The moment you pressed that needle into his leg, his fate was sealed. You squandered his progress and kept him by your side, all while the beasthood continued to fester within him. And he trusted you. Gave his soul and heart to you. And what does he have to show for it? Nothing but the unmarked grave you left him in; put down like a rabid dog. And he has only you, his supposed beloved, to blame.”

Despite her best efforts, Maria felt an unrelenting hatred festering within her as she tightly gripped her Rakuyo. She told herself that nothing he said had been true, that she could not have possibly foreseen nor prevented his demise. But part of her realized that the assassin had a point.

“Oh, but it doesn’t matter anymore, does it? Now he’s just another soul that paid the ultimate price because of your selfishness. And now you’re going to die just as you lived. An unfulfilled failure stumbling around in the dark.”

Maria’s blade cut through the air just as she heard the assassin’s weapon descend upon her yet again. The silence of the cave was interrupted by anguished screaming, as a weapon fell into the water below with a splash.

Brador clutched at the stump where his arm had been not a moment ago, his already tarnished attire soaked with his tainted blood. Maria had not moved a muscle, eyeing the retreating assassin with a mixture of hatred and pity.

“You were not entirely wrong. I have been running from what I am for far too long.” She acknowledged as she stood to her full height and began to approach the wounded assassin.

“Every decision I’ve ever made has resulted in me shedding innocent blood and each time, I had cast the blame on my superiors, fleeing in a vain attempt to start anew. I told myself that I will one day find a calling I believed in, that the bloody streets and forests were but a temporary, unfortunate chapter in my life. And when I thought I had finally left that life behind me; the emptiness did not go away. If anything, it came back stronger.”

Brador continued to back away from her, the confidence he had exhibited earlier having all but vanished.

“I resigned myself to eternal torment, ignoring the suffering of others as I wasted away behind the brass gates of my lonely tower, knowing that I can never truly atone for what I’ve done. But I understand now that my story is not yet over, that I will not spend the rest of eternity in this cursed portrait, crafted from my regrets.” She ran her hands over the sabre part of her Rakuyo as she spoke and as she concluded her address, she held out her double-edged weapon and gripped it with both hands, glaring at the petrified assassin as she did so.

“My name is Lady Maria. Champion of Cainhurst. Guardian of the Astral Clocktower. Old Hunter.”

She split the weapon in two and held them out on either side.

“And the shackles of the past burden me no longer.”

Brador let out a defiant yell as he charged toward her, scooping up his weapon with his remaining arm and swinging it in a wide arc. Maria evaporated into mist and reappeared behind him, not even bothering to counterattack and waiting for him to attempt another strike before repeating the action. As he turned around, she swiftly dashed towards him and slashed him across the chest with both of her blades, forcing him to his knees as he cried out in pain. Slowly approaching him, she unceremoniously drove her fist into his chest, forcing him to meet her eyes as she watched him helplessly struggle to escape. Soon, his struggling died down and the assassin let out a wheezing, quiet chuckle as blood escaped from his mouth.

“Nothing changes…such is the nature of man…” Upon speaking those words, his body once again went limp and Maria finally pulled her arm from his chest, letting him fall to the ground. She watched as the beast-hide assassin faded away for what she hoped would be the final time, having died as his numerous victims had, helpless to do anything in the face of their killer.

After Brador had faded away, Maria slumped her back against the cave wall, breathing heavily as she was overwhelmed by the physical toll this Hamlet had brought upon her. She then slid herself down to a sitting position, trying to ease the aching that plagued her entire body. She had made far too many perilous miscalculations, escaping certain death through sheer luck alone. She didn’t seem apt for this life anymore.

The assassin’ words ran through her mind despite her best efforts to suppress them. She _had_ kept Zoran coming back to her far longer then was needed, delaying his descent into this part of the nightmare in order to keep him by her side. The blood she had given him as treatment for his injured leg had no doubt been the catalyst for his transformation and had slowly festered beneath the surface as they spent more and more time together. Had she only realized what was developing between them sooner, maybe their fates would've been reversed. But then what would've happened to him? The beasthood would've caught up to him eventually and then, he would have no one to free him from his horrid state.

She reached into her jacket and took out the music box, opening its hatch to reveal the tiny ornament that had been hidden inside. The letter that had accompanied it had been left in the Clocktower, forgotten in her haste, but its contents were forever entrenched in Maria’s mind. She smiled as she thought back to the day when Zoran had gifted her this box; it had started innocently enough, about as normal a meeting as the two of them could manage. But what followed had come most unexpectedly, where the two of them wound up sharing a small part of their respective homelands with each-other. The dance they shared that day had been a haphazard proposal, but in that moment, she had felt the dynamics of their relationship shift. Despite the modesty of its events, it had been the happiest day of her life.

Turning the lever, she was met with its soft, familiar melody, which echoed throughout the empty cave. Maria let out a soft sigh and closed her eyes as she listened to the comforting tune, memories of her final dance with Zoran filling her mind. She would’ve given anything to have him by her side at that moment, but as the music box continued to play, it felt as if he was watching over her; emboldening her sickly spirit.

“A hunter is never truly alone.”

……………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………

Maria made her way further into the caves, coming to rest in a large, circular cavern with yet another diverting path. Brador had eliminated most of the threats throughout the caves, allowing her to explore the twisting pathways without much interference. As she approached the path, the first thing that she noticed was one of the feminine creatures prostrating herself on the ground and as she approached it, she soon saw that dozens more were gathered in this narrow passageway, each one holding up their hands in a silent prayer. She also noticed that the faint smell of the ocean was growing ever stronger as she made her way further into the passageway, the gathered worshipers not paying her any heed.

She took a deep breath, mentally preparing herself for what came next.

Exiting the cave, she was met with the sight of an all to familiar beach, with the body of Mother Kos lying by the shore. Here, she and the Old Hunters laid witness to the act that shaped the realm each one of them was now trapped in, that brought the wrath of a vengeful Great One crashing down on them. Provest Wilhelm had been especially fascinated with the opportunity to study a Great One’s offspring and had given Gehrman a special assignment to search Kos’ body for the umbilical cord of her child. He had thought that it would elevate his thoughts to those of a Great One, to grant humanity a chance to match their greatness. Whether he had ever achieved this dream, she did not know, but what had transpired here was enough to convince her to side with his apprentice Laurence in the schism that befell Byrgenwerth not long after.

As she approached the deceased Great One, it appeared as if her body was beginning to bloat, as if something was trying to escape. She froze as a thin, bony arm emerged from Kos’ body, clawing into the dirt as it pulled itself out of the long deceased Great One. A pale, humanoid figure slowly emerged from the corpse, the innards of its mother hanging from its body as it weakly stood up for the first time. It shivered in the bitter wind, staring at the nightmarish moon in the stormy sky as if in a trance, not making a single sound. That was until Maria heard the creature’s weak, strangled sobbing, which seemed to reverberate across the beach and the seemingly endless sea before them.

The gut-wrenching sight before her shook Maria to her very core. This being was the source of the Nightmare, the source of the curse that marked every hunter upon their birth and plunged them into a lifetime of misery. She had been party to the infanticide of this infant Great One and in her eternal guilt, had sworn to ensure no one would disturb it any longer, more out of the belief that she and her compatriots deserved their damnation then anything else. But this Orphan, it was imprisoned in this Nightmare as well. And would never find peace unless it was put to rest.

Suddenly, the creature slowly turned its head in her direction, it’s pupil-less eyes seemingly staring into her very soul. Its body began to shake even harder than before, seemingly recognizing the fiend that had slaughtered it all those years ago, before it had even drawn it’s first breath. Turning around, the creature began to slowly lumber towards her, dragging a horrific mound of flesh behind it as it grew accustomed to walking. Maria brandished her Rakuyo and slowly approached the orphaned Great One, reminding herself not to underestimate the seemingly fragile creature before her.

No sooner had the thought cross her mind, the Orphan launched itself into the air and propelled itself in her direction, letting out an agonized cry as it slammed the mound into the ground with full force. Maria evaded the creature’s attack, slicing it’s back with her blade as it recovered and staggering it briefly. Despite this, it spun around and attempted to smash her with the mound, before swiftly swinging it two more times and once again driving it into the ground, forcing Maria back as she barely avoided the Orphan’s mindless attacks. Not quite finished, it rushed towards her while dragging its mound along the sand and swung it upwards, with Maria just managing to evade it by evaporating into mist as it approached her. Reforming, she split her Rakuyo in two and swung her sabre forward, raking the Orphan’s flesh before following up with several arching slashes.

After several successful hits, the Orphan leapt into the air and slammed its weapon into the ground as it was gliding backwards, no doubt in an attempt to put some distance between them. Maria rushed forward as the mound sailed past her, running towards the creature just as it tore a piece of flesh from its weapon and slammed it into the ground. She did not see the red glow in the ground until it was too late and she was launched into the air by the ensuing explosion, pain erupting through her body as she hit the ground. The Orphan let out another cry and she looked up to see that it had raised its massive mound overhead, rolling out of the way just as it came crashing down. It attempted to crush her several more times, until Maria managed to dig her dagger into the Great One’s arm, causing it to scream in pain and violently jolt it’s arm, sending her flying across the beach.

By some miracle, she had not lost her grip on the dagger and managed to remove it from the Orphan’s arm as it flung her away. The strength displayed by the creature was overwhelming, only made worse by it’s unrelenting fury. She could only imagine just how powerful it would’ve been had it reached adulthood, had this village remained hidden from Byrgenwerth’s prying eyes.

Her opponent had frozen in place, drawing in heavy breaths as it hunched over from the numerous wounds she had inflicted on it. Standing to its full height, it unleashed an ear-shattering scream, the sheer force of the cry causing Maria to drop her blades and desperately cover her ears as a high-pitched ringing reverberated in her head. A blinding light descended on Kos’ carcass and a shockwave of energy swiftly made its way towards her, forcing her to move out of its trajectory despite the ringing in her ears. Just as she was clear, the Orphan was upon her once again, barreling towards her at full force with its mound clutched with both hands. It careened past her with a yell, striking the natural wall of rock behind her and sending several large chunks flying from the impact of it’s blow. Immediately after, it spun around and slammed its weapon into the ground in front of it in quick succession while chasing her down, culminating with it leaping into the air and bringing itself down with the force of a cannonball. Still unarmed, Maria could do nothing but helplessly evade the Orphan’s relentless onslaught, looking for any opening she could to retrieve her weapon. As it descended upon her, she evaporated into mist and reformed far away from it, rushing to her discarded weapon and plucking it of the ground as the creature recuperated.

An enraged yell rang out behind her and Maria sidestepped just as the Orphan crashed down on the spot she had just been on, taking advantage of its temporary immobility to regain the offensive, rushing past it and slashing it across the abdomen. Looking back, she noticed that the creature was convulsing as if it had just been shocked, looking down to find that the bolt from the earlier shockwave had left behind a current that coursed through her blades. She swiftly spun herself around to inflict two more deep gashes on the Orphan’s chest before connecting them together to drive the weapon into its side, the creature once again convulsing as the current of electricity swept through its body.

No sooner had she removed the Rakuyo did the monster pull several chunks from its weapon and tossed them in her direction, the hunter dissolving into mist to avoid the impending projectiles, before looking back to see that another collection of chunks was heading straight for her. Unable to react in time, she bore the full blunt of the surprisingly powerful chunks, being sent flying several meters as they exploded upon impact. She struggled to stand up, feeling a sharp pain swell in her chest from the various injuries she had sustained in the battle. Seeing that the creature was once again chasing after her, she ran in the direction of the sea, hoping to both grant herself more room to maneuver and to gain some distance between her and the Great One. Coming to a stop once the water enveloped her ankles, she swiftly plunged a blood vial into her thigh and prepared herself for the Orphan’s impending attack.

It showed no sign of slowing down as it drove it’s enlarged weapon into the ground in an attempt to crush her, before swinging it once again by holding on to the thin cord that connected it to its body. In that moment, Maria came to the horrifying conclusion that it was attempting to bludgeon her to death with its own placenta, which she kept in the back of her mind as she continued to evade the Orphan’s relentless attacks. As the battle raged on, she could feel her strength waning, while her opponent showed no signs of fatigue despite the numerous wounds she had inflicted upon it, the sheer magnitude of which would’ve killed any other being. But she could tell she was getting close. She just had to…

She was unable to react as one of the Orphan’s swings connected with her chest and sent her flying across the arena, skipping across the water like a stone before she finally came to a stop. Slowly rising to her feet, one of her arms erupted in pain and her chest heaved as she struggled to draw breath, several of her ribs having been broken as a result of the monster’s strike. She had long ago run out of vials and had grown exhausted from the ordeal, but she knew she could not back down now. This was her last chance.

She charged to meet the Orphan head on, holding her double-edged weapon with her good arm as she eyed the approaching Great One. As it approached, it drew its massive placenta to the side and swung it a wide arc. Ducking underneath the attack, Maria swung her Rakuyo as hard as she could, slicing the chord that connected the placenta to the Orphan’s body and letting it fly helplessly across the arena. As the creature realized the loss of its weapon, she rushed toward it and drove the Rakuyo straight through its chest, not releasing her hold on the weapon even as it dropped to its knees before her. After a while, she swiftly removed her blade and released her grip on it, letting it clutter to the ground as she pulled back her fist.

“This Nightmare… ends now!!!”

She drove her fist into the Orphan’s chest and looked it into its expressionless eyes, though even then, she could see the pain and anger that it had carried since it's birth. Pain that she and her compatriots had instilled in it. She gently embraced the creature, holding it close as it's breathing gradually slowed down and hoping that she could grant it even a few moments of comfort before it's demise.

“I'm sorry...”

The Orphan's weight soon began to weigh down on her and she was forced to release him, watching as it fell back into the water with a splash. As his body faded away in a white mist, she thought she saw what resembled gratitude on his face. Soon, there was nothing left of the Orphan of Kos, with nothing but a single parasite resting where it had lain.

Maria collapsed to her knees in exhaustion, her vision blurring as a result of the intense pain that plagued her body. The rain continued to fall in droves, pelting her face as she willed herself to stay conscious, breathing in the cold, bitter air. Looking up, she realized that the nightmarish moon was still glowing in the sky, despite the demise of the creature that supposedly fed it’s existence. What had she missed? Surely, it could not have been self-sustaining.

Looking back at the corpse of Mother Kos, she noticed that a thin, black line of smoke now levitated over her body, seemingly looking out at the endless sea. The spirit of the Orphan, still trapped within the Nightmare despite being freed from it’s tormented physical form. Maria willed herself to stand, realizing that her task was not yet over. Slowly limping towards the apparition, she weakly dragged the Rakuyo across the sand as she winced from the sharp pain that shot up her body from each movement, coming close to collapsing as she neared the carcass. Supporting herself with her weapon, she looked up at the spirit, swaying in the wind as the sound of it’s distant sobs met her ears. Once again rising to her feet, she came to a rest just in front of the Orphan’s tortured soul, whose grief and anger had confined so many to this eternal Nightmare.

“Find your way home. You are free.”

She swiped her blade through the black spirit and it almost immediately dissipated, it’s passing accompanied by what sounded like a relieved sigh as the mist then began to flow in the direction of the sea.

(* Cue "You Were There" Instrumental Cover by Fenix Ark Angelus *)

After a while, Maria noticed that the rain had ceased and that a faint light now blanketed the beach. Turning towards the source, she squeezed her eyes shut as they struggled to adjust to the natural light which had replaced the nightmarish orb in the sky. Eventually willing herself to open her eyes, she saw that the clouds above had cleared and that the sun peaked from the horizon. How long has it been since she had last seen the sunrise, felt the warmth of its rays upon her skin? Tears once again welled in her eyes, but this time, they were accompanied by an almost childish laugh as she basked in its glory.

It was over. The Nightmare had come to an end. And the souls within can finally rest.

The Rakuyo tumbled out of her hands as a strange sensation seemed to flow through Maria’s very being, the pain she had experienced a moment ago seemingly disappearing. Her legs gave way and she once again collapsed to her knees, warmth spreading throughout her body as she stared into the distant sea. Her very existence had been tied to this Nightmare, preventing her from passing on to the next life due to the marks her past sins had branded on her soul. And now, the curse had been lifted and the Nightmare she had kept alive bound her no longer. She could finally be at peace.

Maria closed her eyes and smiled as she basked in the sun’s rays, her mind brimming with memories shared with the one that had inspired her to accomplish this seemingly impossible task; of the bond they had formed and of his untimely death. And now, after all the pain that had befallen him, he may finally find comfort and rest knowing that he had not suffered such grave misfortune in vain.

“Thank you. For everything…” Maria whispered as she began to slowly fade away, letting out one final, relieved breath as she was finally swept away by the wind.

Soon, several dozen more apparitions trailed behind her, steadily growing until they numbered in the thousands, all of them slowly drifting away from the prison that had shackled them for so long and in the direction of the light breaking on the horizon. On the coast where Mother Kos lay, a small box lay in the sand, resting there until it was swept up by the rising tide and carried out to the ocean.

A bottomless curse, a bottomless sea. Accepting of all that there is, and can be.

………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………….

**Author's Note**: Surprise! 

For those of you who are still here, I hope you enjoyed this alternate ending that I cooked up. I realize that I didn't spend as much time as I would've liked exploring Maria's perception and motivations during the original story, so I wanted to document what would've happened had she been the one who survived the final duel. This is relatively new territory for me, so any feedback would be much appreciated.

I've also considered starting a separate series that chronicles the events that I wanted to include in this story, but ultimately cut due to wanting to minimize filler (Valtr and the League, discovering Ebrietas, detailing the Oedon Chapel massacre in detail etc.), as well as the meetings between Zoran and Maria that took place between Chapters 2 and 3. It would be much more lighthearted then the original, so if that's something you would be interested in seeing, then let me know.

Alternatively, I have a half-finished Civilization one-shot that I've been itching to return to, which would also diversify my portfolio. But either way, I will most likely be off the grid until the holidays.

Until next time.

**Author's Note:**

> Author's Note: This story is something I wrote with very little prior-planning and as such, it snowballed into something much bigger. Much of it has already been completed, sans a few minor edits and new chapters should be added at regular intervals. It may not be the most original story in the world, but when has that ever stopped anyone?
> 
> Bloodborne is quite possibly my favorite game of all time and after noticing the scarcity of stories about it, I wanted to expand the archives even if by a little. This fandom may not have the numbers it once did, but I hope those who remain may find some enjoyment from it.


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